


Mi'lord not My Lord

by CaptainWorsfold



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, Arranged Marriage, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-01-07 08:46:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 56,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainWorsfold/pseuds/CaptainWorsfold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Tywin Lannister had figured out who Arya and Gendry were when they were at Harrenhall?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So this is my first Gendrya fan fiction, and I'm really not sure about it right now. It's based in Season 2 on Game of Thrones, and although I am only just reading the books I know that the scenes from Harrenhall are not in the books. I'm really not sure about my characterisation of Tywin yet, so that might change yet. Anyway, try to enjoy.

The fortress of Harrenhall loomed like misformed shadows cast into the fog. Empty eyes of castle walls stared out across the small area that could be seen from the towers. Lord Tywin Lannister stood atop one of those towers that day looking over the men and girl in his service. She was a high-born girl, that was known enough to him - her use of ‘my lord’ instead of ‘mi’lord’, her attempts to cover up the mistakes she makes about house knowledge: it was almost too obvious.

Almost. 

She had obviously recognised him, in name or banner at least, and for that reason she was not pleased. Her defiance at not kneeling when he rode in gave him some indication that she was not fond on the banner, but her fear showed well enough that she did value her life - majorly enough it seemed. 

She was clever, obviously in some way literate. She got angry about the fact that he had questioned her, brought up her obvious lies. She was hiding, and there was only one (known) high-born girl, around her age, missing in Westeros. One that was very much well-known by his armies, 

But the sight before him only confirmed the fact to him more. From the tower, Tywin could see all that he needed to over the area covered by Harrenhal - that included the forge where his cupbearer now sat watching the blacksmith-boy work. It was a sight that almost brewed anger in his chest, a sight that reminded him of the man the dead king once was with the girl that man had still loved. 

That was the moment when Tywin Lannister finally understood something. That little girl from Winterfell seemed to have done well on her own - but how she acted around the blacksmith told him something else. He was not blind, he could see that relationship and how blatant it was.

“You wanted to see me my lord?” He had not bothered to learn this man’s name, he believed him to be called Polliver - but did not care very much. He had called the man there for a reason, and his name did not matter to him.

“Yes, I’d like you to send for the girl and the blacksmith boy.” He turned away from the open area caused by the melted stone, walking back to his table and placing his hands on the chair at the head of it - so he was facing the man. “Tell them that their Lord has some questions to ask them.”

“Wouldn’t you rather I ask them for you my lord?” The man grinned in a way that Tywin did not care for. “You would not have to waste your breath on-” Lannister felt a laugh burst from his lips, not joyful - humourless at the nerve the man had to believe that he would want anything other than the orders he had commanded.

“No. Do as I ask.” The man stood frozen for a few seconds as Tywin continued to stare at him, smirking slightly. When he did not move the smirk was dropped. “Well go on then.” 

The man probably wished for a knighthood from some house by the end of this war - he was too naive for that honor.

When he returned, he ordered the man to leave - leaving the girl and the blacksmith-boy stood silently before him. Her eyes glancing worriedly between the boy and Tywin as the silence grew. Their secrets slowly casting shadows that the Lannister Lord was beginning to deduce himself. It was slowly becoming more and more obvious to him, the girl was still young - young enough to not notice the look that boy cast her in some lights, young enough to not know how she stood betrayed her stature at points. 

“I never did ask your name, did I girl?” Tywin walked around the table to where she and the boy were stood, his eyes staying levelled throughout his steps. She seemed to gulp to him, to start figuring out her lies to add to the tale she had conducted in her mind. “Don’t bother, I already figured it out - Arya Stark.”

She gulped more blatantly this time, glancing towards her friend in a mode of fear and worry that she was trying to push back - but couldn’t. She looked fearful, and that was what betrayed her, she rocked side to side on the balls of her feet - her eyes wide and shocked, like a doe caught sight of by a hunting party. It was blatantly obvious to Lord Tywin Lannister that this girl was who he had accused her of being.

“I am right then, aren’t I?” She nodded glumly, looking down at her feet slightly - he had heard enough stories and spent enough time with this girl to know that she would not take this fact by simply looking down at her feet. “Well what am I supposed to do with you now?” He turned and walked back to his seat at the head of the table, motioning for them to sit once he, himself, was sat comfortably.

“I do not know, my lord.” She sat down wearily, Gendry seating himself more awkwardly to her left, her eyes glancing towards the blacksmith’s worried expression with one of her own. How she was sat almost betrayed the fact she was prepared to run,  but she seemed to be gaining some slight comfort from the blacksmith sat beside her. 

She had no idea what to think in this situation, she’d expected him to kill her if he found out - or send her back to the prisons, or to King’s Landing; not sit her and Gendry down together in his war room. But what she did not understand was why Gendry was sat with her. 

“We shall sort that out in a moment.” Tywin then said curtly, turning his eyes to look Gendry over once again. His eyes seeming to scan the boy over before he abruptly spoke. “Where are you from, boy?” 

“King’s Langing, mi’lord.” Gendry saw no point in lying to the man before him, if he could see through Arya’s then he would obviously see through his. “Flea Bottom.” He knew full well what these questions were about, he could easily assume that they would lead to the same he was asked by the two Hands before they both died. He almost hoped that the Lannister before him would follow this fate - for Arya’s sake.

“And your mother?” Tywin continued to scrutinise the boy, he was sure of what he was seeing - he had Robert’s facial structure, build (at least during that war).

“No one special,” He looked down at his hands almost pitifully. “She was just a tavern girl.” He could tell what question would come next, so he did not give the Lannister Lord time to ask it. “And I didn’t know my father.”

Tywin felt his lips purse. So this was why his solders had attacked their group - he had survived, somehow, probably through lying. The two of these children could a way to win the war, if they were in Robb Stark’s camp. But they were not, they were directly before him. “You’re a bastard.” The Lannister Lord stated blatantly. “This wasn’t the first time you’ve being asked these questions, is it?”

“No mi’lord,” Gendry felt his eyes glancing towards Arya in support, he wished they hadn’t - since this was something personal to him. But it had involved her father, after all. “The Hands of the King asked me the same questions.” He turned to look the man back in the eyes, he then glanced back down to the table - knowing that when he had looked Eddard Stark in the eyes he seemed to jump back in surprise.

“Hands?” Tywin saw his ideas confirm to the boy’s eyes when he looked directly at him, the boy had some idea that his action had something to do with the reaction of the previous people who had asked him these questions. 

“The first hand had send a man to speak with me, the questions were from him…” Gendry then trailed off, glancing towards Arya - to support her with the words he said, not the other way around. “And Lord Eddard came himself.”

Arya looked Gendry in the eyes, a memory of Kings Landing flooding back to her from the back of her mind. ‘ _His found one bastard already_.’ Realisation made her figure out who those men in the dungeon had meant - Gendry. They had meant Gendry, at least - that’s what she thought they must have meant.

“Lord Eddard came himself, did he.” Tywin could almost hear himself laugh humourlessly at this fact. “To the pits of Flea Bottom, he is a braver man than I.” The last sentence was meant sarcastically and almost to himself, but it caused an anger he had hoped to brew in the girl. That in-turn, he hoped, would cause him to see some of the great Baratheron wrath that would so obviously exist in the boy; that was, if the boy was who Tywin thought him to be. But then the boy was so alike in looks to his father, that maybe he had not inherited that from Robert - maybe he had instead inherited some of the tavern wenches temperament. 

But Gendry did not bite back, instead his murmured something Tywin could not hear to the girl - somehow calming her down. 

“There was a reason that two Hands to the King went to see you, and now -technically - you have seen a third.” Tywin reclined slightly, watching as the boy looked confused at him. Tywin had given in looking to the Lyanna Stark look-a-like and decided to concentrate on the bastard of the dead king. “Looking at you the reasoning behind my daughter or grandson’s men looking to kill you seems almost obvious.” Tywin stood to move around to look the boy in the eye. “It was well known Robert had bastards.” He paused to allow the thoughts sink into the boy’s head, to allow him to put everything together.

“I am…” Gendry seemed almost disgusted by the idea, having seen the dead King in person a few times - all of those times when Robert was drunk. 

“Yes, you are the bastard son of late King Robert.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I blame two things for this taking a week. 1) School and mock exams 2) The fact I doubled the amount of words for this chapter. I don't know why. I blame planning. Anyway, I have a few things to go over. I'm taking the fact they aged up every character at Winterfell that they've aged up Gendry as well by the same age difference, so he would be around the same age as Robb and Jon at 17.

Tywin, having found out that he had the bastard son whom his grandson wanted dead and the missing Stark girl in his castle, promptly told them to leave for their new quarters. He did not know what he could have spoken with them about after he had informed the boy of his heritage - thus why he did not speak with them any longer. He had a war to win.  
He had decided that since they would escape from a prison cell or find themselves at the hands of his soldiers, both of those options were not favourable to winning this war. Their quarters were directly across from his own, meaning that his own guards would also be watching their quarters at all times - he knew that some of the men would take the movement in an obscene and almost disgusting light; but if he found a man who would say this, he would kill them.

Arya had continued on as the Lannister Lord's cupbearer, her disdain for the predicament almost palpable in the air around her. She had continued to wear the same clothing, do the same jobs, be saturated in the same amount of information - she began to wonder if Tywin actually wanted her to escape. But the fact that he had placed her and Gendry's quarters across from his and kept her in the same role, told her otherwise.

That day there had been a mix up with the sending of information between two houses. She'd being asked to get a book, she had done - Tywin didn't ask her to tell the difference between the two houses, even though she could easily: one house was aligned to the Lannisters and the other to her brother. He yelled the name of her house, causing her to almost spill the flagon of water which she held. Tywin joked with her for a moment or two before a guard entered and announced that "Lord Petyr Baelish had arrived."

Tywin asked the men left in the room to leave before turning to her. "Girl, go and get the blacksmith boy and return here." She froze when she saw Baelish enter, her eyes fixed on the man who had supposedly betrayed her father. "Go, girl!" She knew that Baelish's eyes had followed her from the room as she ran to find Gendry. When she saw him working on a sword she almost flung herself to his side, not realising or caring for the fact he was not wearing a shirt. She hoped that Tywin did not plan of forcing her back to King's Landing with Baelish - they would kill Gendry and then hurt her.

"Gendry…" She was panting from running down the halls of the castle. "Lord Tywin…" She hadn't managed to get out her whole sentence, but Gendry understood what she had meant soon enough. He put down his hammer and work, placing the sword into the water and hearing the hiss before turning to find his clothing.

"Is this to do w' the man whose just rode in?" Gendry asked as he pulled the shirts over his torso. Glancing slightly over his shoulder as he spoke. He turned to face her again, fully clothed and prepared to walk after her.

"Lord Petyr Baelish…" She nodded slowly, and turned to walk much slower back to the meeting room that she had just fled from. Baelish would stay there for as long as they took because Tywin would want him to wait - Tywin probably had many questions of his own to ask the Crown's Master of Coin. "He's on the small council of the King…"

"Lord Tywin's going to hand us in, isn't he?" Gendry followed her at a similar pace behind her, his eyes looking longingly back towards the forge - as he would much prefer to be working there than listening to the politics in that tower.

She didn't reply to him, she wasn't even sure of an answer she could say.

When the two finally arrived to the room, Tywin motioned them to once again sit in the seats they had the few days before. Sat opposite Littlefinger and so he could see the two of them, almost face to face - that was, if the two young adults looked up from the floor they were casting their eyes to. They didn't dare though, their eyes fixed solely on the ground below. But even then it did not take long to see why Tywin had called the girl, at least, before him.

"You have the Stark girl?" He was more shocked than anything to be seeing the girl before him. She was still young but two years had passed since he had last seen the girl, and she had grown; then boy beside her could see that. Baelish was not sure who the boy was, but his eyes - when not fixed on the floor - seemed to be glancing towards Arya for what looked like support every few seconds.

Gendry smiled lightly at her when she looked up at him - and that was when both adults noticed something that could damage Robb Stark's war effort further, for the first real time. Tywin knew of the Frey and Stark agreement from when Robb Stark crossed south at the Twins - it was something that could easily be broken. Something that would be easily broken.

"How did she manage to escape your spies Baelish?" Tywin turned to look at the man beside him, fixing his eyes on the liar before him, rather than the girl who Baelish kept his eyes on. She looked at the boy beside her, eyes wishing that the man before them would disappear the way he came - because he stood there that day, he stood there and watched her father die. And even though Yoren had tried to make sure she had not seen it - there were images that would always stay in her mind, forever.

Baelish did not answer, he just looked at the girl. The man who could lie forever could not explain to the Lord before him how his spies missed her, because he couldn't understand it. Baelish looked at the girl and could see everything they could have missed, but he did not have an answer for the Lannister Lord because here the girl sat before him. "You cannot tell me, can you Baelish?" Tywin glanced down the table to look at the girl and boy - "But I bet he can."

"Yorren cut her hair short, mi'lord." Gendry looked up to answer Lord Tywin, knowing that he would see him answer even if he did not want to. "Dressed her so she looked like a boy and planned to take us to the Wall." Gendry remember the moment they first met, when he'd defended her from Lommy and Hot Pie. When he saw her as a boy before he finally realised the fact she was a girl.

"They disguised her as a boy, how could your spies not think of that simple fact?" Tywin stayed sat, he had wasted most of his earlier anger on the man-of-arms who had made a mistake with the information, but his menace stayed the same as he spoke.

"They were too concentrated in King's Landing, my lord." Baelish finally admitted after moments of time had passed. He glanced towards his empty goblet for a few moments before he heard Lord Tywin speak again.

"Now finally you admit it." He stated looking directly at Baelish, his eyes fixed annoyed on the man who seemed to not understand the trouble he would be finding himself in if anyone was to find out before their return to King's Landing. He then abruptly turned to Arya. "Arya, some wine for Lord Baelish and your friend."

"Mi'lord?" Gendry seemed hesitant by the Lord's request, it was unexpected - unneeded - and Gendry had no idea how to take it. He'd never being asked by a Lord to have wine - he'd never really drank wine before, he'd only really ever drank ales when it came to alcohols and water the rest of the time. "Are you sure? Shouldn't I return to…" Gendry felt himself rise to his feet.

"No boy, the forge can wait." Tywin snapped slightly at the boy, his eyes fixed on the boy with a slight glare telling the half-standing boy to sit down. He did. "My men have enough swords for today." Gendry nodded, sitting back uncomfortably in his chair and glancing towards where Arya was walking

"Now Lord Baelish, let's see if you can redeem yourself." Tywin turned back to Baelish, before glancing at Gendry again - raising his eyebrows at Baelish pointy, daring him to look closely at Gendry.

Seconds seemed to pass like hours as Baelish scanned Gendry's face, realisation slowly dawning in his eyes as he realised who the boy was. "Robert's basterd…" His voice seemed almost a murmur. "I was sure that they were all killed…" His voice had raised slightly, he was turning back to Tywin with a grin on his face when he heard the girl's voice raise.

"You will not hurt him!" She piped up angrily. Her eyes glaring towards the King's Master of Coin, anger seeming to brew in her eyes as she placed the jug down on the table heavily, causing a small amount of it to spill over the lip as she did so.

"Arry…" Gendry hushed her, turning from his seat to see her. He found himself not looking up at her alone but also Tywin, who he had not heard stand, who was stood beside her. "I'll be fine."

"Go back to King's Landing, inform my grandson of what you know." Tywin said, allowing Baelish to stand through his hisses. He did not like Baelish, but he was a great asset to his family. So he tolerated him for those sakes. "We will join you soon enough."

Tywin then sat as Baelish left, draining his wine and sitting in silence for a few moments. "Boy, you can return to work." He stated, not looking towards the boy behind where he had seated himself by the fire. Gendry stood, looking at Arya questioning at how the Lannister Lord was acting. She motioned at him to move, to say or do something before Tywin realised that he had only stood. He moved slowly towards the door before stopping.

"What do you intend for me, milord." Gendry turned back to face the fire, his eyes meeting with Tywin's as the Lord looked up. "As Lord Baelish said… the others are all dead…" He seemed to almost whisper the words, causing Arya to stop whatever she had started doing at stare sympathetically at him. She could protect him, she knew that - and he knew that.

"I will not kill you boy." He seemed to laugh at the boys look of sadness and how the idea seemed preposterous to him. There were plenty of other ways to use a royal bastard when they were so skilled. "You're too skilled with a hammer for that to be a good idea in this war." He justified what he said to the boy, knowing that he didn't have to. He actually didn't have to do anything to help this boy, but if the stories about his disgraceful children were true - he could use this boy to change the new crown. "No, I have other plans." He glanced towards the girl, nodding to her to bring the wine. Those other plans would change this war, that was true enough.

"Thank you mi'lord, mi'lady." Gendry then left hesitantly, still not sure what Tywin had meant but took that as his cue to leave - he did have a sword to finish after all.

A flame's lifetime passed in silence from the other occupants of the room, the sound of crackling filling the pregnant silence that stood in the growing shadows of the room. It was Arya who broke the silence "You haven't told my brother about me yet."

"I don't intend to, girl." He turned in his chair to see her, ignoring the chill that was collapsing in the air from the dying fire embers. He motioned for her to sit by the fire with him - she was not ever needed elsewhere and Tywin knew he would have to tackle this conversation at some point, then was a good a time as any. "He believes that you are at King's Landing, to tell him would make him attack here."

"What do you intend for me, my lord?" She repeated Gendry's question, sitting down where the Lannister had motioned for her to. She could feel the warm embers of the fire warming her skin - it felt almost foreign to her, for she hadn't felt truly warm since she sat with Yorren - what felt like lifetimes ago.

"You'll marry the boy, I'll legitimise him if needs be - but he will renounce all claim to the throne if I do so." Tywin said it blatantly to her - if he had to do this for his own children then she would have to ordeal the same. At least she knew the boy, at least they cared for each other in friendship, at least he was not forcing her into marriage with one of the many Frey children or grand-children. "If he doesn't, there are other blacksmiths and other lordlings." He hoped his threat round true to the girl - but it was a threat that came from dead meanings. The boy did not want to be king - at least that was how Tywin saw it.

"Why?" Arya asked, staring up at him confused and what seemed to be almost hurt.

"Because your brother had an alliance with Walder Frey which involves your hand, it would break that deal." Of course Tywin had known about this deal, nothing could happen in this war without a Lannister or Stark man overhearing. He half expected Robb Stark to already know about Arya's location in his camp - but he was not so sure. "Now girl, go get some wood for the fire… Stop by the forge if you must…" He glanced towards the fire after he spoke, he knew she was like Cersei, only stronger in her wills and, according to one of his men, sword fighting skill. She reminded him of Lyanna, Robert's original betrothed. He had not disliked her, she seemed a nice girl in the times they had met, he disliked how because of her his daughter's marriage was not happy. Once Arya had left the room, Tywin stood and collected his flagon of wine and poured himself another goblet. He knew she may be a while - it was a good thing that the flagon was only full to around a third of its capacity.

* * *

"Arya…" Gendry was shocked to be seeing her again that day - there were very few times Lord Tywin had allowed her to leave this often and not all of those times she allowed herself to see him. "What are you doing here?

"Lord Tywin plans for us to marry." She blurted out, saying her purpose so blatantly that Gendry almost dropped the scolding metal he had worked onto his feet. He stumbled, eyes wide, into dropping the heated metal, that he had shaped, into the water.

"What?" His voice raised slightly, causing some of the surrounding men to turn and look towards them. Eyes narrowed towards the young girl and boy. They waited for the surrounding men to return to their work before Gendry grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the edge of the empty stone corridor which led through the grounds. "What's going on, Arya?"

"He plans for us to get married, stupid." She hissed out to him, watching him glance around the lengthening shadows. He knew someone would overhear, he wasn't as stupid as Arya had called him up on often.

"Hey! It's not my fault I didn't hear you right." Gendry said, dodging the fact he had honestly disbelieved the idea to start with. Even with Arya repeating it, he felt confused. "Why?" He glanced away from her to look at the three men who had just passed, both seeming to sneer at the two of them.

"He plans to break an agreement between my brother and the Freys… through marrying the two of us." Arya said, keeping her voice low as her eyes followed the path of Gendry's. She wished that there was a way to never be over heard, but even their room was guarded at all times - because she did not want the men to find out about who she was. Because, for some reason that she could not understand, Lord Tywin was guarded about who she was - even to his war council

"How would that break an agreement?" Gendry's words broke her trail of thought, her eyes darting back to his face as she mulled over the same question.

"Probably was a marriage agreement, or something…" She murmured out her answer, unsure. Sure, she had known of the marriage agreements between families, she'd seen it with Sansa, but in war she assumed it would be different. This was the first time Gendry had seen Arya not be sure of what she was saying. She seemed unsure if Robb would have agreed to something as hurtful to her as marriage seemed to be.

Long moments passed before Arya spoke again. "I don't want to do it."

He nodded, prepared to allow her into his arms for comfort. She accepted a small hug before stepping back into the silence once again; she had not planned to accept the embrace - she hadn't needed it or particularly wanted it, but she accepted it anyway. Gendry broke the silence with a question of his own. "Can he even do this? It's not like he's your family or mine." He was trying to understand the facts behind it all, he had never thought of marriage in such away since he never thought he would be going through a process as complicated.

"Since he's a lord and he can say we are his wards." Arya explained to Gendry, not doubting that Tywin would say that if anyone argued with what he was planning. She just hoped he did not plan to trap them in King's Landing. "It's not like I can say no." She said in a hushed tone, hoping that Gendry wouldn't hear.

"Arya… Why?" Arya looked up at Gendry as he spoke. He had overheard her murmurings for they were only steps apart. The crackle of the torches drawing out very few of their words, although they may have covered most of their conversation from the men of the camp they did not cover the words from each of the participants.

"Because he'll kill you, stupid!" She almost yelled, her voice raising over the crackling of the torches and echoing down the corridor. She glanced around the corridor to check if anyone else had overheard. She couldn't see anyone, but as she glanced around she saw Lord Petyr Baelish pass the end of the corridor and head towards the main structure of Harrenhall. "Why is Baelish still here? I thought he left a long while ago."

"He's probably staying the night, like most Lords do." Gendry led her from the corridor and back to the forge, noticing that their conversation had mostly completed it's course. He thought it was best for him to return to work, since he needed to if he wished to survive in the encampment. It was not Tywin Lannister he worried about, but any of the other men - he didn't have to worry about Lord Lannister, for the man actually cared for him.

"Hopefully he's only staying the night…" Arya noted as she followed Gendry to the forge. She glanced over the surrounding swords, wishing to hold one again. Wishing to practise fighting again. Maybe she could see if Lord Tywin would let her. She wasn't sure why she wanted to ask him, maybe because out of all of the Lannisters he seemed to show some kindness towards her, maybe because he seemed to care, maybe because he wasn't there  _that_  day.

"Don't you have work to do?" Gendry asked when she did not move from the forge. His eyes fixed on the sword he was working on but not on the girl before him - but it was obvious she was still there to him.

"Lord Tywin will call for me if he needs anything, stupid." Gendry knew Arya was lying - he knew that Tywin had probably sent her down for a reason. But he also knew he had sent her down to talk with him, for she wouldn't have taken so long with their conversation if it was otherwise.

"Sit there then, some of us actually have to work." He motioned to an area near the forge, it was a table, slightly lower than the work space but it allowed for her to sit. He was actually meant to use it to place armour down to cool - but he was often asked to repair swords over armour so the area had very little use. He was paying too much attention to his work when Rorge walked in, he hadn't seen him until he heard the man snarl.

"Why if it isn't the little  _girl_?" Arya had jumped down from where she had perched, her eyes staring widely at the man as she backed towards Gendry. "Where's your stick girl, I promised to fuck you with it." The man snarled out bitterly, following Arya further into the forge - not seeming to notice the boy working at the fire.

"You will not get anywhere near her." Gendry turned to him, pulling Arya behind him. She glanced towards the pile of swords at the edge of his workspace - all of them having excellent balance and weight, she'd seen Gendry work on them before. They were good swords, good for hurting stupid men.

"How do you plan on doing that, dead boy?" Rorge seemed to laugh out his question. Gendry then promptly lifted the sword from the embers of the fire, raising the heated metal towards the man.

He never swung it, he didn't get chance. Before he could even move to, Ser Kevan Lannister entered the forge, stopping the boy's words that were bubbling in his mind - causing them to cool blankly and disappear. "By following my orders." He said, his eyes baring into the man. "Boy, help her with her chores and take her up to Lord Tywin's war room - I will deal with this man." He spoke to Gendry but kept his eyes on the man before him, narrow and biting like the edge of his sword. Gendry didn't know quite what to do, glancing behind at Arya who was stood slightly behind his left side. When he didn't move, Ser Kevan glanced towards him once. "Boy, Go."

He dropped the sword in the water and walked out of the forge, expecting Arya to follow him. She hadn't straight away, she was saying something to Rorge. "Arya, come on." Gendry yelled out to her, looking towards her with uncertainty and confusion.

* * *

Baelish had planned to stay the night at Harrenhall, with or without Lord Lannister's consent. That was why in the cusp of the night, beside a torch of the castle was he watching the shadowed faces of Robert's bastard and the Stark girl collecting wood. I was then when a figure approached him, hooded but he was the man that Baelish had wanted to speak to. "What are his plans for the girl?" Lord Petyr Baelish had very little need for pleasantries that day, so his questions were abrupt and blatant - to the point.

"His plans? He never speaks of them. In case you haven't noticed we're fighting a war Lord Baelish." The man scoffed slightly at the Lord, rolling his eyes at the fact that this was Lord Baelish's first and only question.

"I pay you for information, not for stating the obvious."

"I'm not completely sure, but from what I can tell - it involves the boy and the Stark agreement with the Frey. At least that's all I've overheard." The man said, accepting the coinage that he was then given for his words.

"That's enough for now." Yes, that was enough for Baelish to mull on. Yes, that told him enough for him to report back to Cersei and the others in King's Landing without threatening his position - not that it ever had threatened his position. Not ever. Not after he had help orchestrate the death of the girl's father.

Baelish watched the interaction between the two hidden wards of Lord Tywin, noticing that Arya was still as wild as she was when she apparently chased cats and fought the water dance in King's Landing. He watched the boy seem to protect her, but laugh at her through their conversation. What ever had happened on the King's Road had meant that these two cared for each other, perhaps that would be good for them - but he didn't work in what was good for them, he worked in what was good for the realm and, most importantly, himself.

He looked forward to the Lannister Lord's return to King's Landing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, here's a thing: the scene where I wrote Gendry back into the chapter, I was writing it in my English class and I was really tired. So I must have rewrote the same paragraph four times - all saying 'Gendry was surprised to be written back into the chapter so soon after I had written him out'. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay well, I think I should be able to keep this pace up, since I'm doing this through Mock exams season. Enjoy, even if it is a little bit of a linking chapter. (little bit? It is a linking chapter)

 

Much to the pleasure of most at Harrenhal, Lord Baelish left in the early hours of the next morning. He had not spoken to Tywin as he left - other than to say his goodbyes and promptly leave the area with a gleeful smile. A smile that had unnerved Arya and Gendry as they stood in the yard. Gendry holding his heated sword as he allowed it cool slightly before preparing to work it - Arya stood eating an apple by his side.

Baelish just smiled and left.

Once he was far from the castle gates Arya was called up to see Tywin once again - he needed his cupbearer to bear cups, or at least keep up appearances. When she arrived she went about her work. Like she always did.

Silent.

Listening. Watching. Responding.

It stayed like this, in a cycle of constant repetition for the following weeks She would fill Tywin's goblet to full with wine or water, talk with him about Winterfell and her home. Talk with him about family, about his own. He admitted things to her about his children who he hated and loved, they talked about Joffery and the sayings of her youth - but never did it ever give anything away to each other. He knew she still hated him, she knew she couldn't trust him.

It was a day like any of the others when it all changed. She had gone down to the barrel of water to refill the metal flagon when she found a Lannister helm sat proudly and out of place on the lid of the barrel. She stuttered at the sight of the lorathi criminal turning the corner. "A girl owes a man two names,"

"A girl will give a man the names when the time comes," Arya said, placing the flagon down on the ground and turning to face the man behind her. Her eyes meeting the man's with a confused glare as she mimicked what he had said to her.

"A girl is too close to the Lannister Lord," Jaqen said to Arya, observing the girl's reaction carefully, watching her freeze at what he said and lowered to pick up the flagon again, watching the man with anger as she went to lift the lid on the barrel.

"I am doing this to survive." Arya snapped at the man before her, dipping the flagon into the water and feeling it cool around her skin. She lifted it out, growling lightly as the man's gaze turned sympathetic.

"A girl should leave this place." He said bluntly, watching as she placed the lid back on the barrel and the flagon on top of it. She looked him in eye, surprised slightly by his words with no reason behind them.

"I cannot. They'll find me no matter what now." She said sadly yet obviously, she knew she was right, and so did he. At least, she hoped he knew she was right - because she was. She glanced around the stone walls knowing that even the melted stone of the castle knew that she was right. Even the land where those rocks had once stood knew.

"Then a girl was reckless." Whatever sympathy Jaqen had once felt for Arya had dissipated within the seconds following her voice speaking. She felt bitter in the change of tone. " A girl should go, a girl's master is waiting for his drink."

"He is not my master." She growled, picking up the flagon of water and feeling it slosh over the sides, some dripping onto her hands she stood and kept eye contact with the man. He seemed unfazed by the young wolf's reaction. He was not surprised by it, nor did it scare her. She was young, she could not hurt him half as much as he could hurt her. He had nothing to loose, and she had everything.

"Then you should hurry." As she turned to leave he thought over he collective of ideas, knowing that he could easily hurt the girl but wouldn't. Because why would it benefit him to hurt the girl, why would it benefit the god of death or any of the others be benefited by her being hurt.

The girl was much stronger hurt than she was in that moment, the man reminded himself as he walked away from the scene, helmet in hand.

* * *

"Stannis Baratheon is planning to charge on King's Landing, My Lord." The war room smelt of the wine that they had all drank, the food smelt off and Lord Tywin had grown weary of the girl not returning as soon as he had expected. He listened briefly to the conversation, ignoring the cooling smells lingering in the air around them - like the mist lingering in the air around the castle towers.

"That was something we expected," Another of his men spoke, gesturing over the table at the other who had spoken. Arya then entered the room, carrying the flagon and then promptly set to work filling the goblets in the room. The man continued speaking. "but not so soon."

"This is war." Tywin stood, walking away from the table to stare out of the area of Harrenhal - his eyes scanning the area he knew they had to leave. His voice was bitter like the cold air that bit at the members of his council and his men. "Nothing is ever what we expect."

"What do we do?"

"We defend the capital at all costs - we are not Robb Stark, we defend our home base." Tywin glanced towards Arya as he spoke, watching as the girl flinched and froze. She looked as if she was about to bite back at him, but she didn't. She didn't say anything. She just turned back to face him with a glare and continued with her work.

"What about all the ground we have gained?"

"Gained? We are loosing this war right now." Tywin laughed humourlessly - his eyes still watching Arya as a smile danced over her lips at the fact that they were admitting they were loosing. Perhaps she hoped that if they lost enough her mother and brother would save her. "We defend Casterly Rock, King's Landing and the remaining South with all costs." He continued, looking at each member of his council in the eye before taking a sip of his water. "Even if we lose land, we can win it back."

"When do we leave?" His brother asked, standing and causing the others to stand also. All of them fixed on the Lannister lord's every word on their locations.

"By mid-day light. Take our men, leave Clegane and his - we bring the girl and blacksmith as well." Tywin rolled off his orders quickly ignoring how Arya froze again, how she turned wide-eyed to face him, how she almost dropped the flagon of water. She stayed in the same place as the men left the room, leaving Tywin alone with the girl as they left to prepare to move out.

Tywin then turned to her, motioning for her to place the water on the desk - which she promptly did. "Girl, collect the boy and your things." He said, not saying her name because the men still did not know her name. She looked like a doe caught - fearful for her life. Fight or flight instigating from the simple fact that she would be returning to King's Landing. "Meet the convoy at the gates, we leave at mid-day light."

"What if we don't show?" She snarled slightly - perhaps not intentionally, but it was still heard by the Lannister Lord. He narrowed his eyes slightly at her, causing her to raise onto the balls of her feet. Her comment so innocent that he knew that she was actually debating not showing, he'd spent enough time with his own children to know that.

"Then you will be left here with Clegane and I shall inform him of who you are." He said blatantly, not a single shred of anger or annoyance raising to his voice. She shuddered, flinched and glanced towards the window. Her hands grasping at her side, as if going for a sword that was once there. "Good, that scares you - go and tell the boy."

She fled the room, the plates still there. Clegane could clear the table. There were few short hours between then and time they would have to leave.

—

"What do you mean you're leaving?" Hot Pie exclaimed as he watched his friends pack clothing they had being given into a bag. Their bags seeming empty to them without the steel that used to accompany it all - the helmet and the needle.

"Tywin wants Gendry and I to go to King's Landing with him." Arya said matter-of-factly as she scruffily folded a tunic into her sack. Their room was emptying rather quickly of any personal items that belonged to them once.

"Doesn't he have enough blacksmiths in King's Landing." Hot Pie asked sulkily, he frowned - looking as if there were tears bidding for escape at his eyes. He seemed disappointed that his friends were so compliant to what was going on, especially since Arya had often referred to Tywin as the 'enemy'.

"That's not why we are going Hot Pie." Gendry sighed, wishing he could stay in Harrenhal also. Especially since he did not look forward to being the self-adopted 'ward' of Tywin Lannister. Forced into the court of Kings without a word. "We don't have a choice."

"Why not?" Hot Pie asked another question, hurt by how the answers did not seem to get any better for him or any more positive. Hurt that his questions did not seem to comfort his friends but only annoy them further.

"Because he knows who we are Hot Pie." Arya said, refolding a tunic so that she could fit more in her sack, glancing over the material towards the boy who seemed even more saddened that the words did not get any more comforting. "And to them we're very important."

"We can't stay Hot Pie." Gendry looked up at his friend, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder and smiling sympathetically. He didn't want to leave him behind, but Tywin had only told him and Arya to go, and neither of them were in a place to argue or ask things of the Lannister lord. "As much as we might like to, we can't."

"I'm sorry Hot Pie" Arya moved around

"Where am I meant to go now? I don't have any friends left." Large tears rolled down the boys cheeks, dampening them as they fell. "They took Lommy and now they're taking you." His words stuttered and stumbled on the tears that ran his face.

"You'll find someone, Hot Pie, you'll find someone…" Gendry smiled sadly towards the boy, he had hoped that the three of them could have made it away from this dreadful place and live out in the forrest - go north for Arya and survive. Live, they were surviving - but to him he wanted to live. He never wanted to be Robert Baratheon's bastard son. He never wanted to be Arya Stark's betrothed. He wanted to be a blacksmith and work at that all of his life, not be a lord-to-be and a pawn in a war.

"I'll miss you, Hot Pie!" Arya hugged the boy, tears welling in her own eyes. She couldn't take this, it was hard enough going back to King's Landing, now she was leaving behind her friend.

* * *

"Lord Tywin, are we ready to leave." One of the red cloaked men yelled towards the Lannister Lord, who was too busy paying attention to the gate to quite realise that the man was speaking. He stared at the empty frame of the gate - his men may be ready to leave, but until the girl and boy were in the convoy would he leave. The flurry of red and gold surrounded the convoy, the men growing restless and hoping to leave to defend their capital sooner. It was then that the scruffily clad boy and girl turned the corner and ran towards him.

"Girl, Boy, get in the cart. There's no time to saddle you a horse." Tywin's jaw was set with anger, his words bitter as the two approached his horse with a quick bow. Arya was the first to look up and respond to his words, jumping into the cart beside his horse and curling up quickly - adverse to the cooling air around her.

Gendry was a little slower. "I'm sorry milord we were just-" he stuttered out, raising his eyes slightly to look at the Lannister Lord as he spoke to him. His gaze wearily travelling to address the Lord eye to eye, weary that some man of the Lord's guard finding him disrespectful and punishing him.

"Get in the cart boy." Tywin didn't care for the boy's excuse then, which annoyed the boy heavily since he wanted to explain himself. Gendry reluctantly climbed into the cart with Arya, sitting beside her to comfort her. Tywin turned his horse so that he was level beside the duo. "We'll talk later." He said to them, regarding them alone - although some of his men seemed aggravated by this - as if they believed that they should have some more gratitude then others already gave them.

"Move out." He yelled to his generals, trotting his horse beside the cart before galloping ahead of it. Gendry glanced at Arya when this happened, confused as he had expected Tywin to berate them for not arriving when they were told to. Or at least stay by them. He feared slightly for the looks the men sent them, looks of confusion and anger. He saw how some glanced over Arya and how Arya was shivering. He assumed it wasn't from the cold, she was of the north and would be more used to it than any of these men were.

She had curled up beside him, staring back at the fortress and the swirling smokes around the towers. Watching as a the sight of the boy they had called friend disappeared quickly into the distance and they were soon on the road to a place she regarded as a hell.

A place she hated.

She wasn't paying attention when Gendry laid one of the blankets from the cart over her, she shuddered at the sudden contact and glanced up at his face. He was looking pensively back at the fortress himself.

They both hated to admit it, but they would miss that place. They would miss that final feeling that all freedoms were obtainable to them.

* * *

King's Landing was glazed in orange lights, greens and golds reflected in the peach coloured waters of the many courtyards in the sandstone buildings. A brown horse of Essos fled through the glazed town, disrupting the amber caught city as he charged towards the Red Keep - his rider working the horse until it reached the gate. The gate opened for the horse and it's rider, the rider easily recognised by the gatesmen. He didn't say anything before taking a drink of water that he was offered as he dismounted his horse.

"I have to speak with the Queen, boy." The man said to a nearby serf, who took the water from the man's hand, replacing it with wine. The boy looked hesitantly at the man - his mockingbird pin glittering in the refection of the wine the man held - he knew who this man was and what he had done.

"She's in a meeting with the council, discussing the matter of the pending battle." The boy responded, watching as the man then took his leave quickly through the nearest archway that lead to the council room. He broke into a run as the boy watched before disappearing from the boy's view. He did not like the man very much, but he did not have any room - at all - to express his views. So the boy disappeared silently through another arch.

The man, however, moved quickly through the halls to the council room. He knew the halls well, having made the journey many a time in the reign of King Robert. He did not run the entire way, he had to retain some dignity when he finally entered the council chamber. A gleeful smile as he burst into the room. "Joyous news!"

"Nice for you to join us, Lord Baelish." The imp at the edge of the table said, his eyes looking towards the man who had just entered. Baelish quickly sat, taking the wine goblet and sipping. Well it has to be better than this horse-piss."

"I have found Arya Stark." Baelish announced triumphantly, leaning back into his chair with a smile.

"Now this is joyous news. Where is she?" Tyrion knew he sounded quite condescending and disdainful in how underwhelmed he sounded when regarding Baelish, but he didn't particularly care. He cared more for the location of the girl, hoping she was not also in the brothel - like how he had hidden Catelyn Stark there when Lord Eddard still walked among the living.

"With your father, Lord Tywin." Baelish saw how the sudden interest was lost by Varys when he said this fact. Tyrion frowned at the fact the girl was with his father, he knew this wasn't a good thing. This fact told him that the girl had gotten so close to the fighting lines - so close to her own family. Although he may not have liked the Starks, for the girl to be returned to King's Landing so soon after getting so close may break her spirits.

"You didn't find her then, did you?" Tyrion's older sister spoke up, her eyes narrowed towards Baelish but her speak articulate as always. It was something more disdainful than Tyrion, it was more subtle, more perfected - like her ability to rip important papers and hiding truths. "My father did."

"But she is indeed, found." Baelish pointed out, moving his hand in a gesture he often used when attempting to make a valid point. Varys had seen Baelish attempt to win favour with Lord Stark, Arryn and the others in the room - it had often worked. But towards Varys it made him feel sick to the stomach.

"This is not selling me to the idea of this, Lord Baelish. Lord Tywin has the Stark girl?" Varys asked, his thoughts worried for the girl. He thought back to her the girl had travelled with originally, assuming it was the Night's Watch like he had hoped - then the bastard boy he had liberated from the city was also in that group. He knew that the men had returned saying that the boy Gendry was dead and this Varys sincerely hoped. Because if Tywin Lannister had the boy, he was not sure what the fate for the boy would be.

"Yes, Lord Varys." Baelish's voice broke the thoughts of the eunuch's, his simple acknowledgement allowed Varys to exhibit some of his confusion

"And he did not send you with her?" Varys asked the brothel owner, his hands following a similar gesture to what Baelish's own had earlier. For two could very easily play at that game. There were enough people playing games, why not include himself in this.

"I assume he has his own plans for the girl." Baelish stated, taking a sip of his wine afterwards. He knew that every set of eyes in that chamber hall were on their conversation, every set of ears wanting to hear what had happened.

"And what are these plans for her?" Varys asked, taking a sip of his own wine before continuing - not allowing Baelish the chance to cause more cryptic answers that did not answer his question. It was something both men were very clever at doing, but it was not helping Varys reach the conclusion he hoped to reach. "That is, I assume you ma have some idea about them to say that you assume he has his own plans for her."

"It's probably something to do with the boy she was travelling with." Baelish stated, waiting for Varys to respond with another question. By this point Cersei and Pycelle were too interested and invested in the conversation to notice Tyrion's attempts to change the conversation back to one of the upcoming battle.

"As much as this is exciting news, it is hardly worth pig-shit in the interest of this upcoming battle…" Tyrion stated, his voice trailing off before he could figure out where he was going to go with that sentence as he found himself lingering on his own words. He turned to Bronn who had somehow managed to stay silent throughout the conversation. "Excuse me Lords, Sister, I think I may have a way for us to win this battle." The imp stood, nodding at Bronn as his repeated the words 'pig-shit' to him. Yes, he knew how they would win the upcoming battle.

But he doubted that when he returned the subject matter would have changed much from 'the finding of Arya Stark'. An apparently incredibly important subject.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Well this took longer to write than I thought it would. I apologise. Anyway, try to enjoy the walking, horse riding and fluff of this chapter...

The repetition of the constantly moving forest and horse hooves in a continue clatter, complete with sway side to side, against the dirt path lulled Arya to sleep through the day. Gendry had wrapped a loose woollen blanket around her shoulders and allowed her to rest her head against his shoulder. He was too nauseous to care very much.

Although they were on the road for a few months before Harrenhal, Gendry was still not used to the idea of travelling across country. Especially not in odd carts and on horse back. He'd sat in the back of the food cart when they travelled with the Night's Watch, but then there was two horses pulling the cart and not one. The cart was steadier, not rocking as it was with the singular mare.

Arya seemed more used to the idea and also seemed very comfortable to sleep against him.

He didn't mind. If Tywin's plan went ahead as he planned, he was sure that he'd have to get used to it anyway.

"Arya," Gendry said to the sleeping girl, shaking her shoulders slightly to wake her as the cart rocked to a stop. The girl woke slowly as Gendry spoke, her eyes opening lazily to the dusk mist that surrounded the slowing cart and men. "We're stopping."

"Wake up you sorry traitor's daughter." One of Tywin's men yelled out to the girl, slamming the hilt of his sword on the side of the cart. It caused Arya to jump up abruptly at Gendry's side, her eyes narrowed at the sworn sword of Tywin's. Gendry didn't say anything as she did, he just slid from the cart to help her out.

"Arry, come on" He murmured to her, placing his hand on her shoulder when she didn't move away from glaring at the knight. The knight smirked slightly, finding the sight of the two wards quite humorous. "Lord Tywin wanted to see us." Gendry pushed Arya lightly towards where Tywin's tent was laid out.

"How far are we from King's Landing?" Arya asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She swayed slightly as she walked, trying to find her footing on the uneven ground after spending hours on an uneven cart. Gendry was struggling in a similar way, but he was managing better somehow - probably because he hadn't laid down for most of the journey.

"I wouldn't know. I've never travelled the King's Road." Gendry remarked to Arya, walking beside her and waiting for her to punch his arm. When she did, he chuckled and grinned over at her. Prepared to retort a 'That was not very ladylike response' when he stopped himself abruptly. He was sure there were men in the campsite that did not know who she was - in fact, Tywin had made it quite obvious that there were.

Neither had noticed the sworn sword of Tywin's following them towards the tent, until the man spoke up . "We will not be stopping tomorrow girl - we are about two days out." The man said, glancing the girl up and down when she turned to face him.

She narrowed her eyes at him, uttering out a "Thank you, ser." before Gendry turned back to face her, placing his hand on her shoulder for the third time since she had awoken only moments ago. Arya then turned back to face Gendry, brushing his hand off of her shoulder so that they could continue walking the short remaining distance to the tent.

Flurries of gold and red Lannister banners and tenting canvas flying around the son of a stag and the wolf-girl - they looked out-of-place in the sea of golden-haired or red cloaked men who payed very little attention to them. Other than the odd one or two who would give them a passing glance or odd glare of confusion.

The tenting was all temporary anyway. At least for the most part. According to what Arya had overheard, around a few hundred men were staying at this location to hold it incase her brother got passed the line.

Her eyes finally set on the largest tent erected in the messes of other tents. It was hastily built for the night that the men needed under canvas. Needed, because if what the man had told her was true - they would need it.

Orange and golden lights flame over blonde haired and red cloaked men. Misty reds and lilac mixed with the greying clouds of blood orange. Arya believed she hadn't seen a sunrise like it since she was at Winterfell - it would be almost six months now since she left. She missed the grey stone walls, the flames and candles that scattered her room and her parents, the childlike adoration of it all. She missed her brothers, Bran, Rickon, Robb who fought in southern fields for her and her sister's freedom. And Jon. Jon was freezing in edges much father north than she had ever stood. She wished she could fight them, she wished that they could fight her way to freedom. She wished they would flee back north, hide in the castles of the loyal and wait for her mother and brother to return. But they couldn't. It was not that easy.

They finally reached the tent. The open door of canvas flew out beside the two of them, revealing where they were stood to whomever faced the doorway - the luck, however, seemed to be on the side of the lingering duo as the candles and torches being light began to flicker.

After a few long moments spent outside the tent, the two walked through the flap carefully. The duo then finding themselves face to face with a rather confused Tywin Lannister and his war council. "You wanted to see us, milord." Gendry said pointedly, Tywin's eyes realising that the boy was correct.

"Yes I did boy." He nodded, dismissing the war council around him and motioning for them to sit. Neither the Lannister lord nor the two 'wards' spoke during this time. They just stood or sat uncomfortably in the silence. Tywin was the one to finally break this silence, needing to get on with the rest of the war plans very soon after. He skipped all small talk and got to the point quickly. "You must be tired, so you both will stay in a tent nearby my own."

"Why, my lord?" Arya spoke hesitantly. She was honestly confused by it all - the whole prospect of being so close to Lord Tywin's tent made her wary of what was going on in the camp.

"Because not all of my men are as honourable as your brother or my son." Tywin said bluntly, he was not so careful in choosing his words as Arya had being. He said the words truthfully in hope that the two would soon leave and get some rest, knowing that they would both be rising again early the next day.

"How do they get away with it?" Arya asked, worried that the Lord knew of his men's digressions but did not stop them. Worried that he could not control her men, who may very well hurt her.

"War is not a time to punish the dishonourable me, Arya." Tywin said to the girl, wishing he was wrong about what he was saying. But if he saved Arya and her boy, then he could not risk killing a few rapists when they would probably die anyway. "But they will not get close enough to your tent to try" He assured her, hoping that this would quench any worries that she may have had about it. He didn't particularly enjoy the idea of rapists in his camp, but he found that in the time of war, it was not justified to punish dishonourable men when they could be fighting for him loyally.

Arya seemed to be prepared to jump in for another argument when Gendry spoke up. "Come, Arya, let us leave." He stood, hoping that she would follow his lead. Not that she ever would, he knew that she would lead their lives - not him. And he would follow her wherever she goes. "Lord Tywin is a very busy man." He placed his hand on her shoulder, waiting for her to stand. When she finally did, he allowed her to take her time. Tywin didn't say a word as they left, he just allowed them to leave.

Arya piped up with her question as they walked from the tent, seeing the sight and hearing the sound of steel against a whetstone made her think."Do you know how to fight, Gendry?" She turned and grinned at him.

"I know how to swing a sword." Gendry said, hoping it would brush off the conversation - since she had seen him swing a sword in the forge at Harrenhal. Not that he assumed she would be paying too much attention to his technique since she was often lost in her thoughts. He didn't blame her.

"No you don't." She laughed slightly.

"I do." Gendry looked at her, annoyed at the fact she was disputing this.

"No you don't."

"Yes, I do."

Already fed up of the argument they were having and noticing the perturbed glances of annoyed and worried guards. They knew if that this argument continued the Lord Tywin would either have them disciplined or he would have the duo. "Fight me then, stupid." Arya said cockily at the taller man.

"Fine then." Gendry sighed, giving up. He knew that if he didn't agree, eventually she would find away to get him to. He couldn't dispute it, because she always did. "How?"

"Sticks - tent. Now." Her grin widened. The promise of practise for the first time in months brought joy to her face. She was excited for once. The prospect of actually practising, actually fighting someone willing, was thrilling to her. Not that Gendry was as willing as Syrio.

Syrio. She would never forget Syrio.

She would never forget any of them. She would avenge them all.

Gendry walked into the tent he assumed to be theirs, the guard at the canvas door nodded, informing him that he was right. It was about as lavish as the room they had in Harrenhal. A simple pallet covered in straw bedding adorned the centre of the tent. Candles light the tent with casted shadows of dancing flames. He found the tent oddly beautiful - not that he would ever mention that to her.

He didn't say much as he fastened the edge of the canvas door so that it was shut to the outside movement of troops and prying eyes. As he turned back to face Arya, the sudden clank of wood against his side shocked him. She laughed when he didn't catch the 'sword', he grumbled under his breath as he picked it up.

She dropped into a stance that Gendry didn't quite recognise, he turned 'side-face' like she had told him to stand. And then their dance began, Arya besting him what seemed like constantly - laughter and joy filling the tent with the echo of wood hitting wood and muscle.

Gendry never managed to beat her, she was too quick, too small of a target for him. But she did teach him things, like how to hold his 'sword', how to stand, how to swing.

But she had been right. He hadn't known how to fight.

* * *

They awoke on the straw at sunrise to the sound of one of Tywin's squires entering their tent and grumbling at them, Gendry rolled off of the bedding quickly, noticing how close Arya had moved near him in her sleep, and stretched out the cricks in his back. He glanced at the squire, who glared at him before speaking. "Lord Tywin wishes for you and  _the girl_  to wear these." He dropped the clothing into Gendry's not ready arms and grinned to himself as Gendry leant down to pick up the fallen small-clothes. He turned them over in his hands, noticing the Lannister sigil embroidered on the left breast.

"Thank you," Gendry murmured, throwing the clothing down onto the bedding and pulling up the small-clothes that were his, slipping them on. He assumed that the squire had left, but he had not. He was stood at the edge of the tent, his arms folded over his chest with a look of annoyance cast on his face. When Arya had still not stirred as Gendry pulled the burgundy top shirt over his head (he hated how it felt instantly) Gendry decided to crouch down and shake Arya's shoulder gently, hearing her snarl into awakening. "Arya, we need to leave soon." She promptly rolled from the pallet and glanced wearily over to where the squire stood. Gendry handed her the pile of clothing that remained, the Lannister lion staring up at her awkwardly as she glanced down at it. She almost threw the clothing from her grip but when she noticed that it was not a dress she hesitantly pulled the clothing on. She looked up and Gendry and back down at their clothing - it felt wrong.

It felt very wrong.

It was the sigil to neither of their houses, it was a sigil that their 'families' were fighting against. And yet they were dressed in burgundy and gold clothing that glinted with the sigil - making them both cringe.

"Are you finally ready?" The squire growled out impatiently, glancing the two over with a snarl on his lips and leading them out to where Lord Tywin stood. Lord Tywin did not say anything to them, only instructed one of his men to collect a single mare and bring it so that the two could ride beside him. Because he needed to 'talk' with them.

He had said this to his men, but never exchanged a word with the duo during the constant ride.

An awkward silence was buffered by the sound of horse shoes and cart wheels. Dust was drummed up in the air between the horses and the tiny remaining space between the duo on horseback. Gendry felt even more awkward than he already did - with the fact he'd never really learnt how to ride - with Arya sat tightly between his legs, her back resting against his chest. It wasn't made any better for him as her hands held the reins with his covering them so that they both had enough support in the saddle of the horse.

The cool air bit at their loosely bound hands, Tywin hadn't given either of them gloves when he sent them their clothing - something he hadn't explained his reasoning for this to them either. Arya could feel the leather rubbing against the palms of her hands roughly, as well as the callous of Gendry's hands worriedly holding over hers. She could tell he didn't feel comfortable, and sometimes, over her shoulder, she could see him looking longingly at the cart behind them.

As the day continued the journey only seemed to lengthen. The idea of no stops meant literally no stops except for when they needed to 'rest'. Lord Tywin's squires would give him a water-skin whenever he asked, but would often neglect the 'wards' Tywin had ordered them to also serve. Tywin noticed this when their lips were becoming chapped and bristled in the cool air, the skin cracking when he passed them the skin.

He still did not speak to them more than a few, unimportant questions or notes.

The night ride took longer than it should have. Although they had said they wouldn't stop at night the road had become too dark to see and the horses were becoming restless. So they stopped for a few hours. Arya and Gendry fell asleep by a tree during these hours, their backs resting on the trunk of the old tree where they had tied up their horse.

They were awoken rudely a few hours later to the sound of a horn and being forced, once again onto a mare.

The second day continued much the same, until they reached an area that Lord Tywin and his men had planned to stop at.

"We are half a day's ride out now…" Arya noted as their horse plodded slowly beside Tywin. She smiled slightly as she noted this - Tywin noticing and leading his horse towards the inn at the crossroads.

"You stopped here before, girl?" Tywin yelled his question back to her- glancing over his shoulder as his white stallion continued trailing towards the inn, as if the horse was used to this pass.

"When I travelled south with my father." Arya said, a slightly gleeful tone lost in her voice. Glinting and disappearing as quickly as it came. It didn't feel like it had being six months - it felt both longer and shorter at the same time. It felt like both a lifetime away, and moments ago. She tried not to let these thoughts show. "They do stew." She remembered aloud.

Tywin heard her and smiled. His horse pulling to a standstill beside the inn entrance. "Then you and the boy go eat." He said, dismounting from his stallion as he spoke. Once he dismounted he had his squire give them a small bag of silver stags. He didn't say very much else, only that they should not leave the camp until his return, he just allowed them to dismount before leaving alone to the two squires that flanked his sides.

"C'mon then Arry." Gendry said to her as they entered the inn, the duo sat down and asked one of the girls who worked there to bring them some stew. The girl took one look over them with confusion laced in her eyes but got to work anyway. The two slid into one of benches, Gendry sitting at the edge whilst Arya was closer to the wall - not her choice to be there since Gendry had asked her to sit first.

It wasn't long until the stew arrived at their table, threw down sloppily in front of them with hard bread and two wooden spoons as the girl scooped up the silver coins and left. "Thank you." Arya spoke almost mutely, muttering out her thanks to the tavern girl who only grimaced slightly and glanced over Gendry. Gendry hadn't noticed the motion of the girl's eyes as he was too busy breaking the bread to start eating his stew.

They sat in silence if for only the sounds of slurping and breaking bread between them. It was then when a sound of raucous laughter filled the air and armoured feet clunked against the stone floor. The men walked in and Arya steeled, frozen as she heard them speak of her mother and brother. Of how they wanted to kill them for the glory. Gendry, of course - since he was sat so close to her- noticed this. "Relax Arya, I'm never going to let them hurt you."

Ary laughed slightly, placing her spoon into the bowl and letting it roll slightly. "I'm sure I could defend you better than you could me." She threw a punch to his shoulder, causing him to exaggeratedly move to the side and some of his remaining stew to slosh out over the side of the bowl, before the two of them started laughing.

"I'm sure you could… we better work on that then." Gendry admitted, suggesting something Arya had hoped he would. She wanted to practise, he knew he needed to. It wouldn't be hard for them to, they could go down to the back of the inn - the light was still good

"Fight me again, then." Arya smiled, turning fully in her seat to be facing him - before attempting to get to her feet and push him to stand. She grumbled a little at him when he didn't but continued trying.

"Let our food settle first, hasty." Gendry laughed at her reaction, pulling her down - back to sitting beside him on the bench. Gendry glanced towards where the Lannister men were sitting, staring at them with angered and annoyed glares. He gulped and took a gulp from the casket of liquid the girl had brought with their stews.

"No," She protested, standing again and proceeding to push him again. She wouldn't take that for an excuse! "Someone could attack whenever." She said pointedly, pushing him once again and causing him to laugh some more.

Through his laughter, he took one more chancing glance at the group of men at the edge of the room. He smiled hesitantly at Arya. "Fine then. C'mon then." he gave in through his laughter, standing and taking another gulp of the liquid - it tasted a hint like meed, but it was too weak for him to tell properly what it was. He didn't care, it quenches his thirst.

Arya remembered that there was a small open area that would still be open around the back of the inn - they wouldn't camp there, it didn't have enough space for a tent and it was too close to the inn.

They took two broken broom staffs from the side of the inn and began their practise. Arya dropping into her usual stance whilst Gendry attempted to mimic her slightly in his actions. She smirked slightly noticing this, murmuring 'stupid bull' under her breath and swiftly tripping him up. Gendry pushed himself to his feet, only to find the end of Arya's broom touching his chest. "Dead." she smiled and helped him up - before their dance bagan all over again.

Tywin was stood by the window of the inn when he overheard the laughing and clashing of wood. He surveyed over the area before noticing them directly under the window pane, he was about to yell down and scold them when he paused and faltered at this idea. She looked as wild as the mountain tribes his son had brought him, but yet as graceful as his daughter had when she begged to practise with Jamie. He found himself reminiscing more than feel anger at the two children.

Arya had often reminded him of his daughter, how she was strong-willed, strong-minded and knew when to voice her opinions. She was clever, well maybe not clever, but she was smart. She knew what she was doing.

How the boy reacted around her confused Tyiwn. He did not have to watch over the girl, but Tywin saw how he always did, as if he cared for her more than he let on.

He watched them fight another battle until the girl beat the boy once again before he turned back to the reports he was reading - he had a few more days to wait out before Stannis Baratheon's ships reached King's Landing. They would wait out at the encampment there until they heard where to go next, or at least that was Tywin's plan. No need to rush the rest of the things in motion.

The duo fighting had not seen either of the two men who had watched over them whilst they practised. They had not noticed the Lord who felt he had to care for them, nor the faceless man who also felt the obligation.

* * *

Tyrion Lannister, as hand of the King, was a very busy man. He was not expecting to have to wait for Lord Baelish to arrive, so that they could actually discuss the trivial matter that he did not want to speak of. Although he disliked the Starks, based mostly on Catelyn Stark's 'hospitality', he did not see their current fate as just. Lady Sansa did not deserve to be the play thing of Joffery's. Ned Stark had always being honourable. And the news of the Stark boys from Winterfell.

How Robb Stark had wood to feed his fire of hate against them all.

But with Arya Stark, it was different. With Arya Stark, he might actually be able to stop the horrors that might pass her. "My father has the remaining Stark girl then." The door to his quarters opened as Lord Baelish entered, Tyrion did not wait to begin his conversation with Littlefinger - for the man would be the only way for them to help their war effort.

"You heard my announcement, Lord Tyrion." Baelish said in a throw away comment, seating himself beside the imp. "But don't you have a battle to plan for?" Baelish took a sip of the Dornish red Podrick had poured for him, savouring the flavour and the colour.

"I did and I do," Tyrion said, before taking a sip of his own wine. He shook his head at Pod when he tried to refill his goblet before turning to Baelish. "However, I am surprised that he has kept her in the war zone and did not send her back." When Baelish didn't reply to his statement, Tyrion spoke up again."Any explanations for this, Lord Baelish?" Although his sister was not stupid, he knew she would not of pried enough into Baelish for him to answer his questions. Tyrion knew he was not as threatening of a presence as Jamie or his father - but he would not be threatened either. He was not Ned Stark and he knew how this game worked, so he knew that Baelish would eventually give in.

After a few lies too blatant to repeat, he started to gain the truth.

"Arya Stark is not the only pawn your father has," Baelish said bitterly, the tone of his voice telling Tyrion that this was the truth." He also has the last known surviving bastard of Robert's." His eyes widened at this admission, he had heard of the killing of the bastards - especially about the young baby Barra from Ros. He also knew about the boy who had been sent to Renly's household.

"What about the boy who was in Renly's care?" He asked, worried slightly for the boy was not much older than Myrcella - not much older than Sansa or Arya. He was just a boy, that was caught up in this, the same as the bastard his father held and the baby that was slaughtered in a brothel.

"He perished in the slaughter. He was the first to go, apparently." Tyrion hoped, from how indifferent Baelish seemed about this fact, that his guest never had children.

"So my father has a royal bastard and a Ned Stark's other daughter." Tyrion noted, more to himself. He let out a low whistle and muttered the words 'well he has being busy' to himself completely, before turning his attention back to the Lord before him. "What is he planning, Lord Baelish?" Tyrion asked the Lord before him, not really caring heavily for the answer since he was cared more for the well-being of the girl and stopping this war through that. "Since you seem so intrigued to say." He made his remark sarcastically, noting on the fact that Baelish had actually told him very little; although he had seemed to have talked about it, at length, the night before with the other council members.

"He seems to plan to be joining the girl and boy together in marriage." Lord Baelish said, taking a sip of his wine. "To destroy an agreement that exists between the Freys and the Starks." News of the Frey and Stark agreement moved like the wind through the realms as soon as Robb Stark crossed at the Twins. Walder Frey had wanted to gloat after all, and Lannister spies had not had a hard time of scavenging the information from the fifty-odd relations of Walder Frey, or any of the others, who had learnt first hand. "He has also seemed to adopt them as his 'wards'"

"Poor girl." Tyrion remarked, sipping his wine. Although he may have more fear for the other Stark she-wolf cub, he did feel for the youngest daughter of Ned Stark. For she, from his memories, was not made for court life - or wedded life at that.

"From how I saw the two act, I'm not sure it's that bad of a prospect for the two of them." Baelish remarked, remembering seeing the two in the blacksmiths - the boy seemed prepared to protect her from just the glare he received from the two of them.

"That's not what I meant." Tyrion said, laughing slightly. "She's having to cope with my father. Poor girl."

* * *

"Lord Tywin, there is a raven for you." The Lannister Lord and his two wards were breaking fast together, by his command, when his squire entered to hand him the letter. The two that did not want to be there exchanged a hopeful glance and hoped that this would mean that they would be excused and allowed to return to avoiding the other soldiers.

Tywin took a few moments to read over the scrap of paper before him, before turning to Gendry and placing the paper on the table. "Boy, when the girl finally gives you children. Kill them." He allowed Arya to reach over the table to read the Queen's hand - not caring heavily for the fact she was reading it. "Write to my daughter informing her that she has no say in the girl for she could not keep her at King's Landing." He said to the squire, who hastily began scribbling down the words Tywin said. "Also, that we will be arriving in time to help with the battle I have heard rumours about, and if she wishes to keep her seat then she should concentrate on that"

The squire, once finished - promptly left the room. The three sat in silence for a few long moments, Gendry not knowing quite what his part was - whereas Arya felt that she should be the one to break the silence. "My Lord?"

"Yes girl?" Tywin turned to her, placing the goblet he had raised to drink from down on the table once again. He watched how she placed her knife down, how her gaze seemed to be glazed with an anger he could just about make out.

"Shouldn't we be leaving to the battle soon?" She asked, cocking her head to the side as if to point out to the obvious nature of her question. She had known that the battle must have been soon, but she didn't know how soon it would be.

"Of course girl, but what is your haste?" Tywin said, taking a sip of his drink as he spoke.

"It's just… wouldn't you prefer to be closer to King's Landing when the battle takes place - it isn't that far now, but strategy would favour being closer." Arya hesitated on her words, making sure to choose them well - trying to make sure that no one suspected anything of what she was saying. Unluckily for her, both Gendry and Tywin knew that she would be up to something.

"You are right girl." Tywin said, nonchalantly and uncaring in his tone. "What are you planning?" He knew full well that if the girl and boy had seen an opening to leave they would have. He was testing that when he put them on horse back together and by putting them in a separate tent - but then, he assumed, the girl must have known that with the Lannister guards around that she could never escape.

She just smiled innocently at his question, never answering it.

* * *

"What  _are_  you planning?" Gendry asked her wearily as they left Tywin's room, walking towards their own across the hallway. He spoke in a hushed tone, noting the open drafting window and sounds echoing around the halls.

Arya didn't respond until they were in the room, she replied in an equally hushed tone - knowing that Lord Tywin's men surrounded their room within their own - and from the noises she had heard in the hallway, some were obviously not resting. "King's Landing is a big place, we could easily get 'lost'."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter took so long. It did not agree with me. Anyway, slight tw for the end of this chapter for blood.

Tywin, luckily, had agreed with what Arya had said about leaving. So they left early the next day, the sun on their backs as they rode hard, once again, towards King's Landing. Arya and Gendry were once again forced onto horse back, but as they were closer to the capital the heat felt warmer than moving south had the rest of the time.

The fact they had left a day early allowed them to arrive a day early for the battle. The men and their horses rode through the city with the city fall away and parting to lead them directly to the Red Keep - their eyes fixed on the constant movement of the buildings around them, the fearful looks cast towards them by the every day men in the streets. Seeing the red and gold as a sign to fear and not celebrate - signify blood and death, not success and victory.

Arya gulped hesitantly, their horse loyally following the Lannister Lord to the gates of the Red Keep. She narrowed her eyes at the back of the Lord's head, hoping that they would find a way to escape the oncoming madness that was already swarming at their horses' feet. The men rushing to and fro to repair walls and buildings to prepare for the crazed blood-thirst of battle.

Gendry bristled behind Arya, clinging to the reins of the horse for dear life when the walls of the Red Keep met his eyes. He saw that Arya was just as tense, her shoulder's raised and frozen in place as the horse turned to an abrupt stop behind Tywin's - the gates to the Red Keep opening for them so that they could enter.

Behind the gates stood the red and gold clothing of Lannisters and the King, the bald head and well dressed Master of Whispers, the cunning grin of the Master of Coin and the long beard of the Grand Maester - Arya narrowed her eyes at all of them, glancing hopefully that her sister would be there, in the welcoming party. But she saw no sign of her.

Tywin turned in his seat; nodded to her as if to say get down. He began to himself - swinging himself off of the side of his stallion. Arya turned her head to glance at Gendry, who prepared to copy what Tywin did. However when he did so he stumbled messily on his feet, causing Arya to laugh slightly and grumbled "Stupid bull" to him once again. He let out a small laugh himself before 'helping' Arya from the horse, as he did he sent a testing glance towards the group - his eyes met with the questioning and observing gazes of Lord Baelish, Varys and Tyrion, those were, at least, the only members of the group before them that he could see.

Gendry allowed Arya to take the first weary step around their mare - Tywin turned to send a warning glance towards the duo when she did so, causing them to stop in their tracks next to their mare. "I will not take up my role as Hand until after the battle has being won, we do not have time for a ceremony now, your grace." Tywin spoke, motioning towards Gendry and Arya to move forewords after he finished. They moved hesitantly - Gendry staying as close behind Arya as he could, not at her side, but behind her.

None of the other members of the welcoming group spoke, except for Cersei suggesting that they moved into the great hall - which they did. Arya and Gendry trailing behind the man who had 'fostered' them in fear of the other members of the council. Arya remembered them all, she remembered what happened - every second, every drop. A snarl reached her lips as glared at the back of Joffery's head, she glanced towards the dagger on Lord Tywin's belt - her hands grasping towards it as she glared towards Joffery once again.

She was cut from her thoughts when Gendry grabbed her wrist, Tyrion stopping behind the others as he also noticed what had just transpired. "Do not do it Lady Stark." The imp warned her, his eyes fixed on the young girl before him whose wrist was still been held by the blacksmith. "It would not be worth your head, or yours Gendry." He turned to the boy before following the others to the Throne Room. After a few moments, Arya and Gendry followed - frozen by the words of advice the imp had just given them.

Gendry released her wrist and jogged to catch up with the group, Arya soon following his lead when she noticed how far ahead they had got. When she reached the Throne Room, when she was stood on the great aged stone floors and glaced up towards the Iron Throne did she finally realise that she had willingly come back. Willing now stood where her father was betrayed and where her fathers men were slaughtered. She glanced down at the floor, noticing how blood still set in the cracks.

"Lady Stark?" Lord Baelish had turned the attention of the group before her to her, she glanced towards Lord Tywin - hoping that the expression of the man she had been 'cared for' by would aid her. It didn't.

"Yes, Lord Baelish." She said, carelessly forgetting to avoid hissing out his name. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see Tywin widen his eyes - not out of shock but out of expectation, as if he knew that was what she would do. Tyrion smirked but quickly covered it up once again. Gendry stepped back from her slightly, feeling incredibly awkward in the vast expanse of the room - just wanting to observe and marvel at the room rather than stand before them.

"Who is your,  _friend_?" Lord Baelish asked the young girl, Gendry's eyes widening slightly at the question. It was defiantly something he hadn't expected. Arya tried to find the words to speak up and respond to the man before her - she just held her breath and said no words.

Gendry glanced towards her, before turning slowly towards the man. Straightening his shoulders and clearing his throat. "M'names Gendry, m'lord." He said, finally looking the man in the eyes. He looked him squarely in the eyes - his gaze unwavering as he spoke. "I'm no one important." Lord Baelish raised his eyebrow at that remark, so did Lord Tywin and a few of the other men in the room. Joffery grumbled out his annoyance at how he didn't understand what the irony was.

"In any case: it is odd to see the two of you in Lannister colours." Lord Baelish said, his eyes as level with the young man before him as the boys had being. Arya still stood before him steeled to their gazes. "Especially when you are both so obviously not Lannisters." Joffery made a retort about that comment that Arya had not heard, that Gendry had not bothered to hear either.

"Lord Tywin?" Arya spoke up once again. She felt all their eyes turn to the duo once again, she had disrupted a conversation she knew she shouldn't have but she hadn't cared.

"Yes, girl?" The old lion raised his eyebrow, rather annoyed at her. She could tell he was annoyed, but didn't care. She didn't want to be in that room whilst it was so empty. She didn't want to be in that room again. She just wanted to leave the room as quickly as possible.

"I know your men and you have also being travelling the same length as I, but I'm dreadfully tired…" Arya stumbled over her words, carefully crafting the sentences in ways that mimicked the small council before her. She slowly said her words, emphasising like how she had heard Varys and Baelish do in the short amount of time they had spent in each others company.

"You are dismissed girl, same to you boy - there's no use you being here without her." Twyin said, dismissing them quickly without noticing their confusion of where they were to go. They hesitantly glanced towards the door, unsure of where they were to go.

"Podrick, Bronn?" Tyrion turned to the men beside him, motioning towards the girl. Bronn made some remark the others in the room could not hear, before Tyrion could continue. The imp berated him with his eyes and continued. " Can you show the Stark girl and her friend to the tower of the Hand - there'll be a suitable room in there - wouldn't you think?" Bronn nodded stiffly and walked towards the girl and boy. He looked down at the two of them, noticing how worried they looked. He didn't say anything to them, he just motioned towards the door and waited for them to follow his lead. Arya did.

"Thank you, Lord Tyrion." Gendry spoke up his thanks, proudly projecting his thanks to the younger Lannister Lord before quickly following Arya, the sellsword and the squire out of the doors.

—

"What are you planning, father?" Tyrion spoke up after the Stark girl and the bastard boy had left the room. Once again disrupting the flow of minuscule battle plans to talk about the Stark girl. As had happened many times already through either other people's confusion of the girl's own butting in. "She is just a girl."

"And next you shall tell me that he is just a boy" Tywin didn't look towards his son, he read over a letter that one of his own squires had given him - lingering on the time periods and the numbers.

"He is." Tyrion said blatantly, staring his father down until the man looked him in the eyes. When his father did, Tyrion spoke darkly once again. "But then they all were just children, the ones who were like him."

"What are you on about?" Joffery spoke up, his voice cutting over the tone of the Lannister conversation between father and son. "Who is he?" Joffery insisted after they did not answer him straight away, his anger becoming more and more president with every second. After no member of his small council responding, he turned to his mother. "What is he on about, mother?

"That boy, your grace, is the late King Robert's last bastard." Varys folded his hands together as he turned to the King.

"I ordered them all dead! He should not be living! I want him dead." Joffery yelled out, glaring towards his grandfather who had brought the boy into the castle. He snarled slightly at his to-be Hand and continued to glare even after the Lannister Lord began speaking with his grandson.

"You will do no such thing." Tywin yelled back to his grandson, his voice echoing in the hall. He was sure that many of the men surrounding the hall had overheard. "We need swords and he can make them and we need the Stark's discredited." At Tywin's last words the others in the room exchanged an eye contact of confusion, Baelish and Tyrion turning to each other as Baelish seemed to be proving a point to the imp. Varys raised an eyebrow glancing towards

"This is my kingdom! I am the King! I order it!" Joffery yelled out, sounding to the Lannister Lord more and more like a petulant child than the king he was meant to be.

"And he is my man." Tywin growled, promptly shutting up the boy-king with his words.

"Your Grace, if we kill him we may have a worse problem with her in the city."

"He has no claim to the throne, your grace." Varys assured Joffery, his eyes checking with Tywin as he spoke. Tywin nodded, it wasn't in his plans for the boy to become King, so it wouldn't be in the plans of the others. "He is nothing to worry about."

* * *

"Here you go m'boy, m'lady." Bronn stopped outside of the wooden slab doorway, pushing on it slightly for the boy and girl to prove his point. These were the first words exchanged between the group during this silent journey, Bronn was fine with it. He hadn't cared as he just wanted to be done with the job, get to an alehouse with women, drink and singing - but he still looked over the boy and girl, they wanted to be there less than he did.

"Thank you, ser…" Arya said, hesitantly saying 'ser' as she was unsure of who he was. He wasn't there last time she was, so she assumed he must have joined the area lately. But then she hadn't being paying attention to the men and women in King's Landing when she was chasing cats and practising the water dance.

"I a'int no ser, m'lady - name's Bronn." Bronn said to the girl before him, the boy beside her raised his eyebrow but he didn't speak up. The boy started to laugh slightly before Bronn realised that the little girl before him was angered at what he had said.

"And I am no 'lady'." The girl snarled, causing the boy behind to laugh more. She turned to him and punched him squarely in the chest muttering the word 'stupid' to him when he continued.

"Are you sure of that, girl." Bronn joined the boy's laughter with a little laugh of his own, noticing how unaffected the boy was. "They do call you 'Lady' Stark."

"My sister is a lady, my mother is a lady - I am no lady." Arya insisted, growling towards the sell-sword as she stood her ground. Hoping that the man understood that what she was saying meant the most to her.

"I like you girl." Bronn let out a sharp laugh, before nodding lightly and pushing the door open a little more. "Now go on before your Lannister Lord realises that you were lying."

Gendry and Arya exchanged a look of worry before Gendry faced the man before them and spoke up. "He's not our Lord…"The words rang true in his voice, but the boy still sounded hesitant - as if someone unreliable was going to hear - like the man before them.

"But you follow his orders all the same?" When Bronn's question remained unanswered, he assumed he was correct. He raised his eye-brow and posed another question to the duo. "What he paying you?"

"He's not." Arya said, the words feeling bitter on her tongue - as if they weren't true. She knew that there were plenty of true answers she could have iterated out, that they were paid in freedom, life, air… any of those would have worked, would not have being a lie.

"Then he's your Lord." Bronn said harshly before leaving the duo outside the rooms, Podrick following the sell-sword promptly.

* * *

The duo stood outside the rooms for a few moments before they pushed their way into their rooms. They wandered around the Lannister draped rooms, the gold and red filigree patterns that annoyed Arya with their symbolism and easily forgotten roots. Gendry walked to the edge of the first bed, sitting on the feather down of the mattress and running his hands over the edges of the blankets - as if it was not real.

Arya continued to wander the room, running her hands over the stone walls and drapes until she came to a window, She leant against it, glancing out over the area around before murmuring to herself. "These were my rooms…"

"What?" Gendry hadn't heard her, her voice had been barely above a whisper when she spoke and he had been sat way away from him.

"When I was here with my father, stupid." Arya snapped at the boy beside her - her eyes narrowing towards him. He fidgeted slightly and stood up, approaching Arya on soft feet with a careful worried gaze.

When he finally reached where she was stood, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "m'sorry Arya," He murmured, allowing her to follow him to the edge of the bed so that she was seated.

"I hated it the first time." She spoke, her eyes fixed on the burgundy and gold silken drapes and bedding - her hands ripping at the area where they sat in annoyance and anguish."I hate it more now." Her voice sounded empty to the blacksmith who watched her begin to claw at her arms.

He grabbed her hands, pulling her lightly so her palms were facing upwards in his. "Don't." He said, glancing towards the doorway as a noisy group of people passed the room, clatters and shouts passing the door.

"They killed Jory. They killed my friends. They killed my father." She whispered, her eyes fixated on the material at his knees - glazed over and showing no emotion. It was an expression Gendry has seen before. "And now I wear their sigil." She raised her hands and tried to pull at where the golden lion was stitched on her chest. "I sit in their rooms." She looked up at Gendry's face, motioning to the room with distaste. "I pour their wine." Arya turned to look at the shut door, a glare returning to her eyes.

"Then lets not any more." Gendry broke her thoughts with what he said. Her eyes darted to him in confusion and almost excitement.

"What are you saying?"

"Why don't we go?" Gendry rephrased what he had said, Arya's eyebrow raising. "It's not like they'd notice." He smiled reassuringly at her, glancing towards the window before he stood. his feet tapping over the limestone flooring to the window. Arya joined him as he murmured his words. "There's a battle about to take place." The two looked out of the window to see the renewing of defences and protecting of the city.

* * *

When Bronn returned to his employer's side, he was shocked to find that they were alone. Tyrion had returned to his room to prepare for the battle alone, a flagon of wine sat half-full on the table near where he stood. Shae was not in the room, but the sell-sword could only assume that was because of his Lord Father's return. When he entered, Tyrion turned towards him and posed his question. "What did you think of the Stark Girl, then?" Bronn grabbed a second goblet and poured himself wine as he spoke, before promptly lounging back in the chair

"She's brash, and that boy with her will do anything to protect her." Bronn answered, nonchalantly. He hadn't really put much thought into the wellbeing of the girl when he was taking her to the rooms - but he had noticed that she was easily angered and believed herself to be not under Tywin Lannister's control.

"It's no surprise." Tyrion remarked to himself, walking over to the table where Bronn lounged and took a drink of his own wine. He turned to where the open windows opened onto the balcony and view of Blackwater Bay. His eyes beholding the beauty that would hopefully withstand the battle.

"What does your father intend to do with two children?" Bronn asked freely, taking a long drink of his wine as the Lannister Lord sat down beside him. He frowned slightly at the idea and placed the goblet back on the table.

"Hopefully, nothing." Tyrion remarked, agreeing with his words sincerely. "But then he probably has some plan which involves the family legacy."

"And marrying 'em together 'll do that 'ow?" Bronn asked, drinking his wine as he spoke and placing the goblet down on the table messily. Hearing it clank oddly against the wood as if it was empty.

"Undermine the Starks? Cause the Frey agreement to fall apart?" Tyrion suggested, frowning and taking a long drink of his wine before continuing. "I don't know what my father is up to, and I don't want to."

"Well I need a drink before this battle starts - and a woman." Bronn stood and left, leaving Tyrion wishing that he could join him. That he could escape what his father would have put in place and join his friend in an ale house with a strong drink and Shae.

He missed Shae - he missed her already.

* * *

Nightfall took too long for the two Lannister-clad 'children'. They had redressed in new Lannister clothes, red padded shirts to act as some sort of protection as they planned to flee the city.

Gendry and Arya escaping through the city - both admitting they didn't know the ways out of the city as much as they may have liked.

It only took a matter of moments from the leaving the Red Keep to the green flames of wildfire to lick the air. They turned towards the bay with shock, frozen where they had felt their feet stop in awe and fear. Green light casting down over their faces and burning so bright that it looked unnatural against the night sky. No. It was unnatural against the night sky.

Screams echoed through the streets from the bay, fire cackled and laughed at their fear as they ran from the gates of the red keep and into the city - but it wasn't long until they came face to face with the 'enemy'.

He'd seen red and assumed them to be undertrained squires or underprepared solders and charged towards the meekly armed duo. Arya darting out in front of Gendry and striking herself down into the water dance stance, fluidly prepared to attack the man. Gendry did all he could to stay out-of-the-way of the clash of swords and barrage of weaponry aimed at the duo.

Arya darted between swings with an elegance that almost betrayed her Bravosi training as the armoured man continued to block her attacks effortlessly. At least, it was effortless until she darted to his other side and had not felt the blade sink through the fabric at her side until it was too late.

When the man noticed he had hit the girl, he paused - hearing a girl's scream over a boyish yelp. At that, Gendry saw his chance. He arched forward, sword and dagger in hand and slashed unknowingly at the armoured man. He watched the man fall before darting towards Arya, his knees hitting the floor beside her with a speed that he almost recoiled.

Gendry ran his left hand over his brow - his eyes fixed on the bleeding wound in Arya's side. His hands pressed against the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. He held her to his chest - the girl's eyes fixed on his face, blue eyes meeting grey as she continued her shallow breathing.

The clash of swords against armour, flesh and bone as the battle continued above their heads, their Lannister clothes blending into the blood stained ground. The boy's hands shook with worry as the blood stained through her shirt and over his hands.

Tears blurred his vision as he felt his hands tremble, his mouth murmuring out "Don't leave me Arya." He felt his voice shake, the sound of battle easily heard over the worried words of the boy. "Don't leave me!" The shake in his voice increased as his murmur became a shout. "You can't leave me."

Gendry hadn't noticed the stopping of hooves behind him, or the pull on his clothing by a hand for a few moments until after he was stood holding Arya's weak form. Before him, on the white stallion Gendry was becoming too familiar with was Tywin.

"I don't care what you tried to do." He said abruptly, his eyes watching the solders around him with unease. "Just get her back to the Red Keep." As Gendry was about to retort with a no, or a why - Tywin stopped him. "Or she will die."

With that, Gendry took off towards the Red Keep on foot - entering the way he left with annoyance and regret. His hands still pressed against the wound as they forced their way into where the women were hiding and soon he was engulfed in cries and yells of worry and help. It was a red-haired girl, not much older than the one he held that noticed who the girl in his arms was. "Arya?"

"Need. maester." He panted out, soon finding that someone was trying to take Arya from his arms. When he looked up he saw a nurse, young and quite pale looking, holding a jug of water - he looked confused at her before the woman ripped away Arya's red over-shirt and began to clean the wound. Two girls tried to pull him away from Arya. Insisting that he shouldn't be there, but he managed to get out of their grip and back to her side.

"Bastard." Gendry heard a distinct voice yell - it was aimed at him and he couldn't help up turn to where it had come from. He saw the Queen Regent sat where it had come from, drinking a goblet of wine. She seemed to want him to approach, but he didn't want to move from Arya's side - even as her sudden gasps of pain filled the room.

"Yes, your grace?" He faced the Queen Regent but kept his hand in Arya's grasp, not wanting to move from where he was sat for her sake. He knew that he was looking her directly in the eye, he was forgetting his pleasantries and every word he said shook like his hands did.

A snarl reached her wine addled mind. "Who sent you here?" She asked, not paying attention very much to the commotion caused by Arya's bloodied side. The red-haired girl was crouching beside the boy, staring down worriedly at Arya.

"Your father" Gendry said bluntly, sitting down on his heels and taking Arya's hand into his as she looked drowsily at him and the girl beside him.

"Boy please, we need you to leave." Another silent sister approached the group, the girl beside him stood, but he did not move.

"I travelled with her for a year - seeing her in a blood stained undershirt is no worse than what I haven't already seen." Gendry said sharply, causing the woman the step back slightly as if she had seen a ghost.

"Eggs whites, turpentine, rose oil." Another nurse was counting the substances in her basket quickly, mixing the substance together so that a cloudy clear substance was in the small clay bowl she held. "Allow us to work and you will get her back." She sat down beside Gendry, lifting the shirt and exposing it to the air.

Arya flinched as the substance was painted onto her wound, her cut was dampening with the substance and the freshly seeping blood. Gendry held her hand as she crushed his in agony. His eyes watching her face and the hands of the as they worked away at Arya's wound.

But he never left her side, throughout the turmoil and constant questions. Through the looks from the red-haired girl and the glares of the yellow-haired queen. He just stayed by her side and watched her until the troops came back.

And beyond that.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise about two things in this, the length of time it took to write this and, I guess, the length of it. When I plan I need to hit points x, y and z and these points seemed to get longer and longer as I was writing them - I'm sorry.
> 
> Also in this chapter have a few end notes on certain words, and they are marked with little asterisks for reference. Trigger Warnings for illness and vomiting.
> 
> Anywhoo, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Hardly a day had passed and the city was already mourning the dead, mourning the ones who would not survive the next week and mourning the living. Gendry had not moved from her beside since they had placed her on the bed - giving the nurses who had attended who had attended weary smiles as they came and left.

"You have not left her side?" When Lord Tywin Lannister entered the rooms that the boy and girl shared, he expected to find them by each other's sides - but he did not expect the metallic smell of blood and dampened air to still fill the room. With the shutter doors shut to the windows the smell had to have being in the room - and when Tywin found them he understood.

The boy had been sat by her side, his head in his hands when Lord Tywin entered. His eyes flicking between the ground and Arya's paled face. He heard the Lord enter before he saw him, his eyes flicking directly to the man in shock."No m'lord."

He went to stand when he saw him, as was expected of him. Tywin smirked before stopping him. "Don't rise." The Lannister Lord walked towards the boy, standing just beside him with ease. His eyes fixing on the boy's face before resting his hand on the boy's shoulder. "You should rest." He almost seemed to care in those words as he lifted his hand from the boy's shoulder and sitting across the bed in a seat he pulled lightly.

"I'd rather not leave her m'lord." Gendry spoke, carefully noticing his words. He knew that he would have to rest at some point but he also knew he couldn't. If she passed or woke and he would not let himself live it down. His eyes followed the Lannister Lord around the bed with weary gazes..

"Your bed is across the rooms." Tywin said to the boy, almost hoping that he would take his words and listen. Almost - he couldn't truly care for them. They were not blood, they were not family - they were the way to discredit their Northern King's right to rule.

"And the door is guarded by the King's men." Gendry remarked, glancing towards the door beyond the doorway to Arya's room - the doorway that led outside of the rooms, to two men he could not trust.

Lord Tywin grinned to himself, noticing how he had, many times, over heard the girl call him stupid. "You're smarter than you seem boy." Tywin remarked, smirking to the boy with a twitch of his lips that the only living people who had seen it were the girl in the bed and his first-born had seen before.

"The Gold Cloaks wanted me dead." Gendry snapped bitterly, not caring that he had missed his courtesies in his sentence. His blue eyes had being fixed on the darkened and aged eyes of their 'guardian' before moving slowly down to glance at Arya's wound. "I do not doubt that they would hurt her."

It was in that moment, when Gendry looked down at the inured girl did her eyes flicker open and her eyes. "Gendry—" Her throat sounded like sand rushing into a metal bucket - hissing and gristly. "Water—" She murmured out before Gendry reached over to the nearby table and passed her a metal goblet of clear liquid which she quickly gulped down as she sat up. Her lips spilling our some of the water as she sat up, she was drinking too quickly to notice as the droplets of water fell around her lips. It had taken her a few moments to notice the lion sat at her bedside. "I am sorry, I didn't know you were here, Lord Tywin." She tried to push herself up onto her feet, turning her body slightly so that she winced as she tried to stand.

"It's okay Girl, don't rise too quickly." Lord Tywin stood as he spoke, noticing how the girl stopped her movements carefully so that she could listen to what the man was saying. "I need you and the boy to be at the ceremony."

"Ceremony?" Gendry looked up at the man in confusion, this was something he had not heard anyone mention to him, or mention anywhere near him in the short time he had left the room to collect water from the across-the-yard water pump.

"Joffery's holding court and I need the two of you to be there." Tywin spoke very matter-of-factly in what he was saying, not prepared to take no for an answer.

"Why, m'lord?" Gendry asked, knowing he was seeming quite petulant and stupid in his questioning, but he knew that Arya would not want to be in that room any more than he did. Neither of them enjoyed the pomp and circumstance of the court and the politicking, especially the few moments they had being forced to view in their time with the Lannister Lord. "Arya needs rest. You said so yourself."

"It shall not take long." Tywin said briskly, walking towards the door and turning his focus away from the blacksmith bastard. "I'm sending in a Silent Sister to dress your wound so that you may come." Gendry noticed the change in the Lannister Lord and chose not to speak up again until the man had left.

"How long will it take?" Arya asked, her eyes wide and worried at the idea of it all.

"Not long." Tywin almost smiled at the girl, as if he felt some sort of sympathy towards the girl. Gendry had taken that as something he had imagined as the Lannister Lord promptly left the two in silence.

Gendry sighed and waited for the knock at the door. He looked over towards the empty failing look Arya was casting towards the wall, another sigh bridging his lips.

They were soon greeted with the gift of visitors and the blacksmith soon found more than just a Silent Sister in the room, but also a lady-in-waiting. Looking down at the young girl with confusion, Gendry allowed the two woman into the room before waiting until they had entered the room of Arya's before Gendry entered his own to find his clothing.

This would be a long day, Gendry knew it.

* * *

The shoes of the white stallion clicked against the stone and wood of the Throne room floor. Arya and Gendry could hear the horse before they saw it - the echoes reaching their ears over the ill-forgotten words of the others in court.

Arya hated it.

She hated all of it.

He had forced her into an ill-fitting dress of red and silver. She was not sure where it had come from, but she wanted to find out so that she could murder the tailor who had made it.

It pulled against her sides, holding the bandage harshly to the wound. She felt faint in the dress, how it squeezed her in and caused her body to seem pretty - whilst her hair was still messed and matted from her over sleeping. While Gendry had tried to run a brush through it to try to unknot it - it hadn't worked as well as they had hoped.

Gendry was wearing a newer padded shirt, much like his other except not blood stained. His hair was combed out but still hung loosely over his face. His face, hands and arms had being scrubbed clean of any dirt or dried blood from the night before whist his beard had grown untamed for a few weeks, meaning that the once close shaved chin now had quiet long hairs growing from it.

The two were hidden near the balcony area, not near where the crowds had parted to allow the horse through. No where near where the king lounged in his throne, not near where the queen regent and the council stood. Out of sight, out of mind.

As the horse continued to walk through the hall, Gendry flinched. The sound seemed familiar to him, the monotonous clunks of horse hooves against pathways soon brought to his mind the moments and days before they were taken to Harrenhal. On the road with Arya and Yorren - protection, safety. The time when they were not two foreign solders outnumbered in battler. The time when they were safe and free to roam. The time when they were not a wolf cub and a stag in a lion's .

"I, Joffery of the House Baratheon, First of my name, Rightful King of the Andals, and the first men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the realm." Joffery's voice echoed out over the hall, bleeding into their ears with hesitation. "Hearby proclaim my Grandfarther, Lord Tywin Lannister, the Saviour of the City and the Hand of the King."

Finally the clank of horseshoes stopped. The echo held in the air longer than the movement. A pillow holding the pin that Arya once admired and hated was becoming a symbol she knew she would fear and despise. She wished that it would fall apart in his hands, that everything would fall apart and her father would be stood before her - not golden haired lions. She wished that she was back in Winterfell with her brothers.

"Thank you Your Grace"

But no.

They were stood in the court of lions and flowers and they were not welcome - but while they were unnoticed, they were not there.

Tywin, once wearing the pin, dismounted the horse and motioned for the duo to stand beside him. They hid between the horse and the Hand - attempting to avert the gaze of a few Lannisters and court men and women who saw them.

Gendry fidgeted, wishing for the smell of burning coals and heated steel rather than the oils and perfumes of the men and women around him. He wished for the clang and recoil of hammer against steel instead of the recoil at the style of how a man stood or smiled.

"Lord Petry Baelish, step forward." The King poke up from his seat towards the grey haired weasel of a man Gendry had seen before. He hadn't liked the man before, he hadn't liked how he had tried to lie. The man promptly kneeled down before the king and bowed his grey haired head towards the ground. "For your good service and… ingenuity in uniting the Houses of Lannister and Tyrell - I proclaim that you should be granted the castle of Harrenhal with all it's attended lands and incomes" He tried to hold hack a snot of laughter, noticing how Tywin was stood only steps away. He wondered why the Lannister Lord and Hand of the King had chosen to stay in the room - he hoped it would not affect them drastically. "To be hold by you sons and grandsons from this day until the end of time"

"You honour me beyond words, your grace" The weasel-man stood up, grinning to himself with glee. "I shall have to acquire some sons and grandsons." Arya believed he looked at her sister in that moment, but she highly doubted it - he couldn't have.

"Ser Loras Tyrell" Joffery spoke to the well-dressed knight of flowers who then promptly walked out to kneel where Baelish had once kneeled. "Your house has come to our aid, the whole realm is in your debt - no more so than I." Both Arya and Gendry knew not the whole of the realm was in the debt of the Tyrell family - at least some of them were in the debt of loaners or the Lannisters, but defiantly not all of them cared for Joffery. In fact very few did. "If your family will ask anything of me then ask it, and it shall be yours."

"Your Grace." Loras Tyrell spoke, seeming hesitant and too invested in the words that followed. "My sister Margaery, her husband was taken from us before" He paused, Gendry understanding the pause but he knew that many others would not. "she remains innocent." The knight said bluntly - noticing how the King suddenly seemed incredibly interested in the young, barely dressed woman before him. "I would ask it to do it in your heart to give us the great honour of joining our houses."

"Is this what you want, Lady Margaery?" Joffery asked, his interest piqued by the words of the flower knight.

"With all my heart your grace, I have come to love you from afar." Margaery gushed as she spoke her words sounding flavoured and pleasurable even if they were not aimed at them. Arya felt awkward listening to those words "Tales of your courage and wisdom have never been far from my ears." Gendry even knew that this girl was exaggerating, she did not care for this boy too much - the gushing made that almost too true to hear. "And those tales have taken root deep inside of me."

"I, too, have heard tales" Joffery's eyes fixed on hers, a gaze Arya never saw her sister to be graced with fluttered over the Tyrell girl. "of your beauty and grace but tales do not do you justice, my lady." How he spoke made Arya's eyes glance around the room to find her sister's face, hoping that she could see her. "It would be a honour to return your love." Finally Arya's eyes landed on her sister's face, pursing her lips at her sister's reaction and hoping no one else noticed. "But I am promised to another." Damn right you are, were Arya's only thoughts during these long moments. "A king must keep his word."

"Your grace, it is the judgement of your small council. That it would be neither proper nor wise for you to wed a girl whose father was beheaded for treason." When Cersei looked Sansa in the eye as she spoke, Arya narrowed her eyes at the Queen before her. "A girl whose brother is in open rebellion against the throne - as we speak."

"King Robb." Arya murmured to herself, glaring at the blonde woman before them. Her eyes narrowed at the woman whilst shining with glee at their fear of her brother. "My brother." She smiled to herself before her voice dropped bitterly, coming out as a hiss as she spoke. "They deserve his wrath."

"Arya." Gendry growls down at her words, knowing that if they heard what she had said they would be dead. They could never hear - never.

"For the good of the Realm, your councillors beg you," Lord Varys doesn't seem to be 'begging' him, Gendry mused to himself, he seems to be disgusted by this idea - horrified even. "To set Sansa Stark aside." The crowd around them began to grumble, Arya most of all. Gendry, noticing this, pulled Arya towards him and placed a hand over her mouth - knowing that she would defend her sister no matter how much she had expressed hate for her.

"I would like to heed your wishes and the wishes of my people." Joffery spoke, insisting whilst he looked towards where the red-haired girl Gendry knew stood. Slowly he understood why she had spent so much time at his side when Arya was close to death. "But I took a holy vow."

"Your Grace." The blithering voice of old Maester Pycelle spoke up, Arya turning sharply to the man's face. Gendry quickly recognised the man from when he was younger and the man had looked down at the 'street rat' with hate. "The Gods do indeed hold betrothal solemn." The words sounded sickening to Gendry, remembering how "But your father, blessed be his memory, made this pact before the Starks revealed their falseness." Gendry was glad to have still being holding his hand over Arya's mouth - not caring for how some may have looked at him - because he knew she would have caused an outrage. He could bare the pain of Arya biting into his hand, if it did not mean the pain of watching her die for 'treason' "I have consulted with the High Septon and he assures me that their crimes against the realm free you from any promise you had made to them in the sight of the Gods."

"The Gods are good," Joffery stood, a smile of glee on his lips. "I am free to heed my heart." Arya's eyes widened, she bit against Gendry's hand again and this time he released her mouth in pain. He flicked his hand, biting his lip so the pain would ebb and no one would hear his anguish. "Ser Loras, I will gladly wed your sweet sister." The King's glee was not missed by anyone in the room, bit with Arya's annoyance and stalling it gave Gendry another chance to hold her close again and place his other hand over her mouth once again. "You will be my queen and I will love you from this day - to my last day."

Clapping sounded across the stone halls, the noise echoing over the sudden yell of anguish from Arya as the blacksmith failed in stopping her from yelling out. It was not Gendry who then hushed her but a stern glare from Tywin - which told her all that was needed about what would happen if she did not quieten down.

It was not Joffery's voice which stopped the clapping, nor was it Lord Tywin's - no it was the voice that belonged to Lord Baelish which suddenly stopped the applause with his sharp words. "Lord Tywin, is that not Arya Stark by your side?" Baelish craned slightly towards where Arya had stepped out to. She was staring at her sister's face in panic and worry for her when she had heard her name - spinning on the balls of her feet towards the man and slipping into what could have being seen as a defensive stance.

"Lord Baelish." She said, her words shaped perfectly with every letter and sound pronounced with such ease. Even in two words, her wall was built. Her talent of long-form-lying playing through to the singular words she dared to breathe.

"Step forward girl." Joffery spoke, Arya slowly and heavily turned to face the king. Something bitter met her tastebuds, a thought dancing over her mind about her father - how the boy sat there in the same place when her father was captured, when her father's men were murdered.

Arya stepped forward before stumbling on the only step she had taken, she suddenly felt a large hand touch her shoulder and arm. She turned to find Gendry beside her, steading her weight so that she was leaning against him. He hesitantly allowed her to lean against him and support her to the edge of the stairs. He carefully bowed, lowering his head but not lowering himself to one knee like the Tyrell boy or Baelish as he could not with Arya leaning against his arm.

"I did not ask for you to accompany your lady, bastard." Joffery snarled, not noticing how Arya was leaning ever so slightly towards Gendry with how she stood. The blacksmith boy glanced at where the wound was, where careful bindings and layers of dress material covered a very much there wound.

"M'lady Arya was injured during the battle, your grace." Gendry said, answering the king by carefully, debating whether or not he should lower himself to his knees and bring Arya with him. When he remembered that 'his' lord had entered the room on a horse, which whinnied when Gendry spoke, he noticed that he was not defying the King as much as the man who had adopted the two of them. He was a bastard anyway, it was not like they were truly going to notice that two children who had being on the road for months did not know proper court etiquette.

"And what were you doing in the battle?" Joffery asked, his lips turning into a snarl when he noticed that neither of the Lannister dressed children were going to bow or swear a fealty that the others did.

"All capable hands were needed in the battle." Arya spoke weakly, her voice seeming to sound cracked and pained in it words. Gendry kept his eyes fixed to the floor, frowning to himself. This was the place his father had once sat, a place, which according to the men he'd spoken with, which was once decorated in tapestries and furs not stone pillars and the cold airs that seemed to lick the room clean.

"Capable? You are a girl." Joffery laughed, causing some in the room to join in his sickening chuckles. Gendry slowly looked up at the boy king, worriedly glancing up at Arya who squarely was looking the King in the eyes, not blinking once. Her eyes were glazed like he'd seen them glaze over before when she tried to grab for Tywin's knife. He placed a second hand against her arm, hoping to break her trance but to no avail.

"And so were Rhaenys and Visenya." Arya said, more towards herself than to the King before her. Her eyes were still narrowed towards the young king, her hate almost rolling off of her as Gendry silently glanced behind him towards the court - he noticed how every mouth was open in shock, waiting for the King to react.

But, for some reason unknown to both the court and the children before them, he didn't.

"My Lady Stark." Varys was the only one to speak up. His eyes fixed on the slowly growing red flower blooming into the Stark girl's side - spreading north and south from her stomach.

"Lord Varys I have not finished." Joffery said, carelessly looking at the Lord - who had stepped a few steps forward, towards the young girl who was shaking lightly in the cold stone room.

"I'm sorry Your Grace, but I believe that Lady Stark should probably rest." Varys spoke to the King, although his eyes were more fixed on the bastard beside the 'Lady' in question - as if the eunuch was trying to tell the boy of something.

"I believe everyone wishes to rest, Lord Varys." Joffery snarled, ignoring the "But  _Lady_  Stark is still under my questioning."

"What do you want to know, _Your Grace_?" Gendry snarled out his own question, his gaze finally leaving Arya's side to retort to the king. He found only glares and disdain thrown towards him as he stood. There was something there in those seconds, something that seemed to slow everything down and hate that seemed genetic rolled between the two boys.

"I want to know why you were trying to leave." Joffery said, effectively cutting the built walls that Arya and Gendry had worked at as if they were warm butter. For that statement they could not answer without their heads sitting beside where her farther's once did.

"Your Grace, I am sure their reasoning is quite  _obvious_." The aged and elderly man from before spoke up with a bitter voice Gendry did not quite understand. "They should be punished." However blatant and sickening the words sounded coming from the mouth of the elderly man - the King seemed to savour how they sounded on his ears.

"I have already seen to that." But the voice of his grandfather put a stop to the King's contempt look, the sharp sounding words blunt over the air and gaze of the King - whose eyes snapped flamingly towards where his grandfather stood.

As Gendry turned to supportingly look at Arya, he sound found something else meeting his gaze. Something small, that he hardly noticed at first, but something he could not stop looking at once he saw it. In a blind panic, he glanced around the room in hope of someone who might have noticed - someone who could stop the King and tell him what was going on. But as he glanced around the room he noticed something - no one in that room could do what he hoped.

"Lord Tywin…" Gendry glanced towards his lord, the only face in the room he recognised truly, in a hope for help. Tywin, surprised by Gendry's turning back to him, almost glared at him - as if telling Gendry to not bring him into it. But there was something in the Lannister Lord's gaze that told him that this man honestly cared about what was happening - as if it was some how important.

"You are speaking with me,  _bastard_. You will address me." Joffery glared at his brother, who seemed so obviously unlike his apparent relation. Gendry cringed at the king's use of the name he had being called, Yorren and some of the others when they were on the road used to call him it but it never really phased him - everyone there was running away from something - but with Joffery it was something different. He was trying to get a reaction and using that as power over him.

"I apologise  _your grace_ ," Gendry stumbled out his words quickly, spitting them out as if they were hot on his tongue and were burning him as he spoke. His eyes were scanning where the small bloom of blood was staining through Arya's dress, his eyes not quite meeting those of his brother's. "But right now I doubt you know what to do with M'lady."

"I cannot see a problem." Joffery stated plainly, moving his hand with a dismissive tone of Arya's paling form from where he sat.

"Perhaps the situation is much more complex than at first glance, your grace." This time it was Lord Baelish to pipe up once again, his eyes also fixed on the king and never once flicking to the wound becoming ever more prevalent as the seconds passed. "Mayhaps it would be worth questioning Lady Stark when she is fully healed."

"She seems quite fine right now." Arya glared at Joffery, openly. She'd had enough of this boy, but she couldn't well say it without knowing defiantly that she would be sealing her fate with her fathers. She almost wished she had the confidence to do it, or the energy. Her skin paling with every passing second.

Gendry, of course, noticed how she had begun to sway from foot to foot and ducked slightly in pain. "Arya?" He almost forgot that they were in a room with a hundred people - that every set of eyes was on them.

"My son is right,  **boy** ," The Lannister Lady stood beside her son spoke, her voice cutting crisp over the thoughts of Gendry. He looked up to look her in the eye only to find a scrutinising glare passing over his face and body. He shuddered. "Leave your lady be."

Not quite a moment had passed since the Queen Regent had spoken when Arya's swaying stopped, her eyes fixing on the floor for a few moments before her eyes shut and her dead weight fell against the ground. The heavy thud of Arya's body hitting the cold stone caused Gendry to fall to his knees beside her. He pushed his knees into the stone firmly so he could pull her body onto his knees.

He did not look at how Joffery's eyes narrowed at the two of them in annoyance, nor did he look towards where Lords Varys and Baelish left the crowd to join beside where he was kneeling. He did not look towards the worried gaze of the red-haired girl in the crowds under the bannister nor did he look to the glare of Cersei Lannister. He did not hear the shouts of the crowd nor the angered voice of the king. He did not hear the scolding bite of Tywin Lannister nor did he hear the worried cries of the Tyrell girl.

All he could concentrate on was how blood was seeping through the material of the dress and dampening his hand with the red tears. He moved his weight across his knees, pulling Arya stably onto his knees so that he could get access to where the wound was, eyes widening as the blood-kissed material seemed wider than the area of the cut.

From the snarl of disgust above his head, Gendry assumed Joffery could now see the wound. Baelish had said something to his King as Lord Varys stepped down to look Gendry in the eye - breaking him swiftly from the odd trance the boy had seemed to force himself into.

"Get the girl out of here, Gendry." Varys' voice crushed the silence Gendry had forced into his mind. The blacksmith's eyes darted to the bald man in confusion and fear.

"Do I know-"

"Boy, you know what you have to do." Varys cut him off, whatever words he had thought stagnating in his mouth - curdling and sickening in the seconds as they passed by. Gendry then simply nodded, glancing towards where Tywin stood still and focused on the King's face - something twitching in the elder Lannister's jaw which caused Gendry to duck away quickly.

Like most times that day, the boy had not noticed as a red-haired girl followed him out, nor did he hear the voice of the Lion patriarch speak. "Maester Pycelle, see to the girl."

Gendry did not seem to notice as he was lead down halls to a room to leave Arya, nor did he seem to notice as court then left the hall. He did not seem to notice as the red-haired girl place her hand on his shoulder and start laughing with glee and crying with anguish at the same time, nor did her notice the court going about everything as nothing had happened.

All he had noticed was the elderly patter of the Maester as he entered the room where he left Arya's unconscious body.

* * *

Moments seemed like hours to the boy as he waited for news to come about the girl. She was all he had to care about in that city, he had nothing else to do in that time for that city hated him. He could do anything else for fear of someone - the King, the Queen, someone from the court, that bald man who knew his name: 'Lord Varys' - would send someone to speak with him or send someone to kill him.

He should have being alive. He wouldn't be if they had any word in it. They sent Gold Cloaks after him on the road - he didn't doubt that they would try and kill him in the city. For his blood? He could only assume.

When the door cracked open, the blacksmith jumped to his feet assuming it to be any news - good or bad about Arya. Almost hoping that it would be the red-haired girl 'Sansa' wanting to speak with him or, in fact, Arya herself; but instead he was faced with the greying hair and lion-crest of their Lord, Tywin. "My lord." Gendry sounded almost defeated by the prospect.

Lord Tywin Lannister was not surprised to find Gendry still awake and around in his rooms when he entered to see how the movement of his household was going to find the door to the boy's room shut and the noise of pacing echoing from the room. "I told you to rest, boy."

"I couldn't, m'Lord." He admitted, frowning to himself as he stopped pacing and quickly walked to where Tywin stood, his eyes racing over the elder man's face with a search of inding some hint about Arya's health - a frown, a twitch at the side of his mouth, finding nothing he spoke up quickly. "She alright?"

"Maester Pycelle is seeing to her now." Lord Tywin reminded him, motioning for him to sit in one of the seats. "I thought the two of you were smarter than you are." His comment almost sounded like something that was to be thrown away, but with anyone in King's Landing that was never the truth.

"M'lord?"

"If you dare believe that you can leave this place in the middle of a battle, then you truly are stupid." Lord Tywin bitterly spoke to the boy before him, noticing how the boy kept his head bowed and eyes low - as if he was used to it. "Do not try it again." Gendry slowly raised his eyebrow at the Lannister Lord, knowing that they had already talked about this before. He did not say a word, only nodded at he man and prepared for whatever the man would say next.

However it never came as the door behind them creaked open with a patter of elderly feet and clanking of chains as Maester Pycelle entered the room. The greyed robes of the man moving in one hunched snail pace towards where the blacksmith bull and lord lion were.

"My Lord Hand." The Maester coughed, wheezing slightly, before continuing once he had reached where the two were. "The Stark girl's wound is not a serious as it could be." He said slowly, his voice seeming aged with every word he said. "She is in need of ligatures* and her wound to be cleared hourly**."

"As it could be?" Gendry was the only one to talk, his eyes open wide and looking straight towards the Maester before him - hanging on his every word. Lord Tywin simply nodded at his every word, understanding what he meant completely - since he had being in war, he knew how wounds worked, but he also knew that a blacksmith only know how certain wounds were.

"It could become infected, and that will surely kill her." Maester Pycelle's voice seemed oddly musical in its aged tones of bitter grumbles. He knew what he was saying to the boy and he knew how this would work.

* * *

The tower of the hand was busy with the movements of furniture and clothing around in the rooms. Handmaidens and serving boys carrying things for every man or woman moving into the household of the Hand.

This seemed the same for most of the tower, which was why the two lords who had decided to visit loitered at the edge of the building - under a canopy away from the still warm winter sun. The grey haired and sharply featured man craned towards the doorway, hoping to see some point of interest in the room as he clasped the leather bound book he held to his chest.

The bald man beside him clasped his hands beneath his long flowing sleeves, pursing his lips as he did so as if trying to make a point, on flat feet, to the man to his left. He did not say anything as he watched the men and women move in and out of the building - as if he knew exactly what was happening inside of those walls.

"You knew the boy." The grey haired man said to the bald man - his voice sounding almost bitter at the prospect that this man knew the blacksmith, as if he could judge the man for it. The bald man glanced towards the man beside him waiting for the man's eyes to avert from the doorway before answering him.

"So do you, he introduced himself before the battle." The bald man said bluntly when the man finally turned to look the bald man in the eye. He blinked and turned away from the grey haired liar beside him, his eyes landing on the golden eyes of the grey and white giant wolf trailing towards the doors of tower - moving through the courtyard without a single person noticing what was happening. The wolf silently padding through the doors and glancing towards the two with a warning - as if telling them something that they would not understand.

"You knew him before," The grey haired man glanced towards where the bald man was looking, raising his eyebrow at the giant monster of a creature passing through the courtyard - and his lips raised at the corner slightly in confusion.

"So did you." The bald man retorted, preparing to move away from the man beside him as he realised he had lingered too long - he had work to do. He had a wolf to watch.

* * *

The next time Arya awoke, she was greeted with a similar sight to the one she had seen before, except Lord Tywin was not said in the room. Her side felt sore and her head hazy with the milk of the poppy. When she tried to move her arm away from her side she found it sticky - but not with the blood, but a clear substance that smelt of roses.

Gendry smiled meekly at the girl, murmuring his words addled with a pain about it. "We can't try to escape again." He had not wanted to say those words, but he knew they were the truth - and that was what made it worse.

"We have to." Arya insisted, her eyes full of fury as she sat up in anger. He hands slamming against the bed in anger but on an empty stomach and with the blood loss it seemed ill-gotten and weak.

"Arya." Gendry looked the little lady on the bed with determination. "I'm a blacksmith. They forced me into this life with you because of my father." He stood up slowly, glancing out of the open window, noticing the shadow of a wolf across the courtyard - something he assumed he was just seeing. "I don't know how to escape this place." He turned back to Arya, noticing how she glared at him with both annoyance and confusion.

"But you lived here!" She protested at him, remembering how he'd told her of his life as a blacksmith and where he'd lived on the Street of Silver when they were on the road south.

"And so did you." He pointed out, moving to sit beside her again as he glanced over her once more, she did not look pretty then. Skin paled and covered in bruises, blood and the slime they called medicine. Eyes hollowed and lips dry. He never wanted to see her that unwell ever again. "We can't do it."

Arya, annoyed and defiant at Gendry's words went to stand up - only to find herself doubled over her knees on the bed, her stomach squeezing and feeling as if it was ripping itself in two. Her throat heaving with dry breaths as Gendry jumped to his feet and scooped up the bucket in the corner - pulling her up so that she was sat around the bucket. He then fled the room, searching for the casket of clear, fresh liquid he  **knew**  would help her.

When he returned to the room the dry heaving sounds has dissipated with the sound of liquid hitting the base of the bucket. Gendry grimaced slightly at the sound but pulled the bucket away from her and placed it outside, handing her the water to help her sip it down.

"I'll get a Maester." His eyes scanned her weak for with worry, knowing he could not cope with this without someone who actually understood why people got ill - he never knew, he was never going to know.

"No. Not Maester." Arya breathed out her words, worry darkening her eyes as Gendry stood and moved towards the door.

"Arya. You need a Maester."

* * *

A silence had fallen over the two siblings who were sat in the room above the courtyard. Goblets of wine sat in the palms of they hands, fingers wrapped around the metal of the cups filled with red liquid. "I want them both dead." The sister's voice sounded bitter and strong in the golden light air around them.

"As you've said, sweet sister, multiple times." The younger and much shorter sibling feigned to roll his eyes at his sisters words, having heard them be uttered many times before from her mouth - not just talking about the two who resided in the castle, but many others throughout his life.

"They hardly want to be here and he should not have survived the killings anyway." Cersei reasoned with herself, as it seemed to the imp. It was not Tyrion who needed convincing of her actions, because he knew his family well enough. He knew what they would do.

"So you advocate your son's murder of children?" Tyrion raised an eyebrow towards his sister, taking a sip of his wine to quench the bitter idea in his mind. He had known what his nephew had ordered, he knew what it had done - and to hear his sister almost agree with what he had done seemed like more wine was always going to be needed.

"He does not deserve to be alive." Cersei sounded more bitter than ever, her eyes glaring out at the empty darkened courtyard as she spat out her words. These were words she truly believed, she wasn't hurt by them. She was hurt in someway by what the boy had done, Tyrion noticed, and there was only one time that this could have happened.

"What happened in the keep last night?" Tyrion stood, asking his sister carefully the words as she continued to glare out at the blackened depths of the night sky. The stars glittering out white light that gave hope to no one in the keep - that gave hope to little anywhere.

"He brought that Stark girl in, blood on their hands." The woman turned to her brother, her eyes full of bitter ideas about this boy and the young wolf girl. "She looks like that damned Lyanna Stark." Cersei protested, thinking back to a time - not so long ago - when her husband loved a dead woman more than he ever could her. And then his ghost appears at her door with the ghost of that woman, how was she supposed to just allow that? How did her father believe that she would just allow that? How could her younger brother? "And you expect me, after all Robert did to me, to let her and the boy just be."

"He is not Robert, sister," Tyrion insisted to Cersei, he moved to his sister's side - cup in hand - and placing his hand, with an emotion close to sympathy, on his sister's arm. "He's just a boy."

"No. He is him." She ripped her arm from her brother's grasp, turning away and staring out at the black expanse, drinking wine from her cup. "I want him gone."

"He's not him." Tyrion repeated and insisted, he knew she would not believe him - but he needed to break her from this idea. She was lying to herself constantly about this and the main problem, in the man's eyes, was that if it continued - she would follow up on her ideas. "And thanks to father, he won't just go away, sister."

"He can." Cersei stated, sounding almost musical in her words, as if she was savouring the idea. "And she can." She smiled to herself, an action that did not go unnoticed by the man.

"What have you done?" Tyrion asked, worry and anger flaming in his voice. He knew that if Arya Stark died because of his sisters jealousy ridden rage, then the rage and rampage of the wolves from the North would only continue.

The imp's fears were only added to when the boy, who they had being only just talking about, burst into the room with a sweat sodden brow and flamed eyes. He panted slightly, as if he had ran for miles before bursting out with his question.

"Where is the Lord Hand?" Gendry hadn't noticed how his voice had got louder as he spoke. He had began to run when he couldn't find a Maester ten minutes into his search, he then changed his search for their 'guardian' as well - as he would know what to do, he hoped.

"What's wrong boy?" Tyrion asked, noticing how his hands slid down the door and frame, how he was worried to linger too long.

"Arya." The eyes of the smaller man darted to the woman by the window. His eyes widening when he saw his sister smile to herself. "I need a Maester." He panted out his words, worry lacing every syllable with his voice loudening with every word.

"What did you do?" Tyrion hissed bitterly to his sister, turning with an almost glare to where his sister stood defiantly. She had turned from the window, holding the goblet up to her lips with one hand and her elbow bent.

"I." Cersei looked offended by her brother's words. "Did nothing." She strolled towards the pair of empty goblets beside the casket of wine, pouring another goblet-full with one hand before picking it up and placing before a seat. "Have some wine, boy." she motioned towards the seat, urging him to sit in the seat.

"I'll pass, your grace." Gendry said, taking two hesitant steps into the room. Noticing how the queen suddenly seemed bitter, he spoke up. "No offence your grace, but right now I want to help Arya."

"Send for Maester Frenken or Ballabar*** " Tyrion almost yelled at the boy beside him - who quickly fled the room to find said men. The imp then turned to the boy before him and gave him a full goblet of wine, pulling him to sit beside him.

"Why are you doing this?" Gendry asked, looking down at the wine with shaking hands and confused eyes.

"I've always had a soft spot for cripples, bastards and broken things." Tyrion said, so quiet that it almost seemed like it was to himself. He glanced at the worried looking boy in the empty time between the young squire leaving and returning.

"Maester Frenken." Podrick announced before Gendry scrambled to his feet to pull the Maester towards where Arya was. The man saw the look on the boy's face and graced it with fear and understanding.

Once the boy and Maester had left, Tyrion's face dropped in to a serious tone, turning abruptly towards where his sister was sat, grinning to herself. "What did you do?" Tyrion turned to his sister, who was still stood in the corner of the room - glaring daggers into where the boy once sat.

"I did what was needed." Cersei bit out her words, glaring down at her brother as her regal features were marred with these bitter words.

"And killing a young girl is what is needed." Tyrion almost yelled out the words with anger and disgust. "Do you not remember the last time we killed a Stark?"

"She is the one daughter they let roam free," Cersei tried to reason, as if she was reasoning again with what she had done to the young girl.

"She is thirteen, sister." Tyrion spat out, placing his goblet down on the table so that it did not spill out too much, but the force caused it to collide with his grip and tip onto the table. "She will not bring down the realm." The wine ran out over the table, red stains spreading from one drop, to another, to another. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a Stark to keep from turing up dead." Tyrion dismissed himself, bowing mockingly towards his sister and leaving the blood red wine to continue it's plunder over the wood.

"Do you truly hate me that much?" Cersei asked her brother before he left the room. Expecting an answer she never received, with that she turned to back to the window to continue to stare at the clear sky and stars of empty hope.

The wine continued to bleed over the table until the table was covered, then - when it could continue no more - it began to splash over the edges of the table. One droplet, then another, then another. A steady beat the drummed against the floor until it ran against the grey stone and through the cracks between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End notes:
> 
> *Ligatures are a type of stitching used by Ambroise Paré in the mid-1500's. The reason I included this is because the ointment he used to treat battle wounds is canonically used in the TV show (egg whites, turpentine and rose oil). I was thinking of also having a Maester recommend boiling oil which was another way of treating wound from the same time period. Ligatures also replaced a form of wound sealing, for the most part, that would have being much more painful and caused patients to die from shock - cauterisation.
> 
> Since I do not find the idea of writing someone, already in pain, having a burning hot iron pressed to their skin and somehow miraculously surviving because she is a character in a fan-fiction when 90% died of shock; I'll stick with ligatures.
> 
> Sorry about the lesson on Ambroise Paré. Is it obvious I had to write essays on his work for a History GCSE?
> 
> **Like all open wounds, ligature sealed wounds ended to be cleaned regularly. Mostly because people did not know about bacteria and what rust could cause in wounds so did not clean the needles they used.
> 
> ***Frenken and Ballabar are two Maesters I spent three hours scouring my books to find. They are mentioned throughout A Clash of Kings by Tyrion for those who are wondering.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. Hi, hello, welcome to the latest chapter. Okay nothing felt right with this chapter, not a single thing. Anyway, for those wondering - Arya will be back to full strength in about two chapters for reasons that shall be explained next chapter.
> 
> Sorry if anyone seems out of character this chapter.
> 
> Enjoy!

Her eyes showed her a place in the castle she had never known. Elegant and yet out-of-place, like how she was stood in the centre of the room. She was not at her height, but more and the height of herself on her hands and knees. Her head moved from side to side in low swings and she could see herself in the low reflection of the water below. A wolf's features and golden eyes staring back at her with almost giant-like qualities.

She smiled in her sleep as her dream pulled her away from being the wolf to being beside the wolf. Her hands knotting into the grey and white of the creature and wrapping the creature into a strong embrace. The creature made a noise of joy and happiness as it licked her cheek in glee. Slowly it then turned and padded away, the room not fading as the wolf phased from the room.

She stayed on her knees, lingering in the grey breeches and padded shirt she wore. Her hair long and tied back with a leather string. She stayed on her knees until she heard the clatter of leather on stone behind her and a soft chuckle she knew well filling the air.

"Arya." A thickly accented voice of the north met her ears with a glee that caused tears to well at the young girl's eyes. It was a voice she had thought she had forgotten in the time that had passed. A voice is what many forget in time that passes.

"Father." She smiled up at her father as she jumped to her feet, the small smile widening as she embraced the man before her. Tears fell freely from the girl's eyes - something that never happened as she was strong like stone, like her father. This version of her father smiled down at her, a grin visiting his lips as he wrapped his arms around his young daughter.

"You've grown." He said with an air of pain that he had missed her growth - that he would miss her marriage and her life. Arya rested her cheek against her father's leather jerkin and allowed the embossed pattern of her family sigil to press against her cheek.

"I hadn't noticed..." She murmured as her father kneeled down before her. Where he once was still taller than her now his was shorter - she had grown.

"Gendry is a good boy." Her father said, his grey eyes looking straight into hers with honesty. A smile still glistening over his stone features. "Let him look after you." He said before standing slowly and embracing her once more. She never wanted to let go, she wanted to pull him from this room and take him outside. She wanted to pull him from the room and take him to her mother and her brother. She wanted him to see what her brother was doing for him and be proud. But the room had no windows, no doors and no way out without someone or something allowing you to leave.

"Now come on, little Lady." The man beside her father, someone she knew to be Jory - her fathers guard who always cared for her - spoke to her in an almost soothing voice. His hand taking her arm softly and pulling her away from the room. "Your father is a busy man."

"No!" Her voice echoed out into the room as she tried to turn back, the soft grip on her arm slowly becoming harsher as Jory lead her away. "No! Don't take me away from him."

"You've got to go back, little Lady." He said, stopping so that he could softly say the words to the young girl before he began to softly push her towards the wall, with a push that was not harsh but still forceful.

"I don't want to! I want to stay here! There's nothing for me there." She continued to protest as she was slowly pushed through the wall.

Tears fell freely from the open eyes of the Stark girl as she lay on the bed. She weakly raised her arms to wipe the tears from her face, the palm of her hand hitting the short brown locks against the bed.

Her arm rested back down against the red and gold sheets she rested under. Silken sheets that felt harsh against her skin as if they knew her to be unwelcome.

She glanced down the bed, feeling the weight of something at the end of the bed. Not expecting to find that there were two. The first a giant wolf, grey and white with golden eyes - but those eyes were shut as the wolf laid lamely over the bottom of the bed. The second was a bull-headed boy sat half upright, half on the bed beside her body. She smiled slightly before allowing her head to fall back against the pillow in satisfaction.

She soon closed her eyes again, drifting back into the world of dreams. She dreamt of her mother, her brother, Greywind and the war. She dreamt of Gendry, Sansa, wolf pups and a ship to take them far away. She dreamed of dragons, summers, her brother Jon and the wall. But never once did her dreams show her back to the elegant room with the wolf and her father. Never once did she ever get that close.

* * *

Lord Tywin was not surprised to find the boy resting next to the girl, he was not surprised that he hadn't moved from her side nor was he surprised to find the girl still asleep.

He closed the open door to their room, not particularly caring if the movement awoke once of the two in the room as they would quickly fall back to sleep - it was quite obvious from how they were resting. He continued up the stairs to a singular room with a table and many seats - not large enough to be a council chamber but small enough for more private and singular meetings.

He had called Lord Baelish to speak with him after he saw the eunuch recognise the bastard, he would see all three of the non-Lannisters on the small council. He already knew them, but with each of them being seen with them the little 'birds' and spies would not see anything special. "My Lord Hand," Baelish entered the room in sweeping movements, long, wide arms enclosing the area of the doorway as the man smiled with an unbridled alms glee. He bowed slightly and walked with long strides towards the Lannister Lord.

"Lord Baelish." Tywin moved towards the table in the centre of the room, sitting down at the head of the dark wood slab of a table and motioning for the man to sit down with him.

As Baelish sat, he spoke. "You wished to speak with me, my lord." He folded his hands on the table, a goblet of wine placed beside his hands by a new cupbearer - Baelish noted how this one was not at all like the Stark girl, since to begin with this one was male and loyal to the capital - it would seem.

Lord Tywin wasted no time with pleasantries with the man before him. "You and Varys both know the boy, correct?" He asked the sharply featured man, sitting back in his chair. He cupped his hand around the vessel of water, glancing down towards it.

"I would assume Varys knows the boy better than I, since the boy recognised him." Baelish said, mimicking what Tywin did with slightly shaken hands.

Tywin kept a straight face, but his muscles in he cheek twitched slightly as he spoke. "How did you know the boy?" He repeated his question once more before raising his goblet to his lips and sipping the water.

"He used to work at Tobho Mott's shop on the street of silver." Baelish told the Lannister Lord, placing his hand onto the table palm down with care. "Varys secured him the apprenticeship, I visited him to see why."

"You did not mention this before, when you last saw the boy." Lord Tywin said pointedly.

"I thought that they were all dead." Baelish said, rather bluntly with little care for the meanings inferred. For he had actually thought that all of the bastards were dead from the outburst with the baby Barra in his establishment.

Lord Tywin frowned once more at the small council member. "You knew he was not."

"I could not quite believe it." Baelish reasoned with the man, hoping that the simple ideal of this would quench the hand's need for questioning but knowing that it probably wouldn't.

"You told my daughter." Tywin stated, taking an almost lazy looking sip of his wine and holding his gaze. He still showed little emotion, lowering the goblet to the table and placing it down with a small pat.

"She knew when he walked straight in here next to the Stark girl." Baelish stated, pursing his lips slightly before grinning in realisation at what he said. Tywin did not say anything for a few moments, pushing his teeth into the side of his mouth.

After a few long seconds passed, Tywin finally spoke. "He will not affect the course of this war." His words were pushed out, bitter crisping in the air as his hand ran over the edge of the goblet.

"Won't he?" Baelish dared to raise an eyebrow to the Lannister Lord, somehow suddenly feeling comfortable with the situation - because he had realised something, he was not the only one lying. "He looks a Baratheon," "she is undoubtably a Stark, looks nothing like her mother - they will matter to the other sides." The plural of sides caused Lord Tywin's jaw to twitch, they were fighting a war on more than one front and the others were not fighting each other. From his own knowledge of military strategy, it was not a good thing to fight a war on more than one front.

"We have the two of them here, not in their encampment." Tywin stated, glancing towards the doorway so that Lord Baelish realised where he was meaning - for only a few doors down they were sleeping in a state that could be mistaken for peacefully.

"They're dangerous" Baelish stated, taking a sip of the weak wine.

Tywin scoffed to himself as he stood, leaving the goblet on the table and walking towards another smaller table at the edge of the room, stacked high with books and statements from the front lines. Balancing on one of the stacks of books was a thin sword which Tywin lifted slowly. It was an odd sight, seeing the man who had being a solider and leader all of his life hold such a small and thin sword - it almost seemed awkward if it was not for what the object he was holding was. "She is more than him."

"Will she survive?" Baelish asked, as if he was actually interested in the life of the younger Stark Girl.

"It is unlikely."

* * *

Sunlight poured into the room, glinting off the old wood and metal which adorned the rather small room. In the centre of the room it poured onto the bed of the young Stark girl, who was slowly awakening to the sound of the courtyard wakening outside.

She cracked her eye open slightly, groaning at the sound that she heard. It was not one which gave her any joy - she much preferred the bitter yells of criminals to the giggles which danced above the airs of the courtyard.

Arya tried to get more rest, as she had being told to do by many Maesters who had given her this elixir and that treatment to make her feel better. Most of them just purged her of any food she had managed to eat and left her feeling worse than before.

She groaned once more at the thought another day like that and pushed her head further into the pillow.

After a few long moments, the weight on her legs moved and raised its head so that it was facing her. "You're awake" Gendry's voice filled her ears as she slowly turned to look towards him.

"Have you moved from this room?" Arya glanced around the room, noticing how Gendry was still wearing the clothing from the throne hall and that faithful day. She frowned slightly, noticing the worn look cast in his eyes.

Gendry frowned at her question, ignoring it as he spoke. "I got you fresh water."

"Thank you." She was too tired to question his failure to answer her question. She just simply smiled out her response.

Gendry got up from his seat, pressing the cricks out of his back before walking towards the side table and pouring her a goblet full of water. As he walked back and passed her the goblet, he posed her his question. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, surprisingly." She gladly took the water, sipping it down with haste before placing the empty goblet beside her on the table. After a few moments of getting comfortable sat up, her skin still hollowed and harsh but she was still sat upright, she finally spoke again."When will I be allowed to leave?"

"How would I know?" Gendry laughed out his own question, sitting back down in his chair beside her bed as he spoke. He took both of her meanings quite quickly, replying to the one that he felt she meant the most. "And probably never, they don't really want us to leave, do they." He did not really phrase what he was saying as a question - he had seen the guards, the armour and the swords that surrounded their doors; he knew they had no choice.

"No they don't." Arya said, glancing down at the sheets which had pooled at her waist. She frowned, folding the top sheet slightly and messing with it between her fingers angrily. "We have to leave." Her voice came out just below a whisper, almost unheard by Gendry.

"Shut up." He hissed between his teeth, growling it out as he glanced worriedly towards the door. "Just…Stop talking about it." All of the anger dissipated from his voice, as if the sight of the closed-door managed to somehow calm him.

"And we what? Live here?" Arya asked him, her voice still low but not whispered. Raised slightly with her anguish at the subject.

"It might not be that bad…" Gendry said hesitantly, glancing down at his hands moments after saying what he had said - not wanting to face the look of shock and anger bubbling on his friends face.

"Stop lying to your self Gendry." He was surprised she hadn't called him stupid, her voice still in a raised whisper as she spoke out her words. In her head she was repeatedly calling him stupid, yelling at him louder, saying more - but she wasn't

"Fine. But what else can we do whilst we are here?" He asked, returning his voice back to a normal sound - deciding that they had spoken in hushed tones that guards would notice for too long.

"I guess we could keep trying to get away." Arya mused before laughing slightly, it wasn't a true laugh - it seemed weak and forced. She glanced towards the doorway, shuddering at the sight of the Lannister garb decorating the

"That will work for now, but when they keep bringing us back?" Gendry asked, his tone quieter again, careful as he heard movement behind the door opposite. He pursed his lips, biting his lower lip slightly with hesitation.

A silence hung in over the room for a few moments, as if something had suddenly stopped all joy that was almost there with an iron grasp. "Why did they do this?" Arya asked, a hushed tone taking over her voice once again as she glanced around the room with panic in her eyes. "Why did they have to kill him?" She asked the air more than Gendry, her eyes filling with tears which she wished that would wash away with out falling.

Gendry leant up from the chair, hesitantly moving closer to her and placing his large hand on her thin shoulder. "I don't know…" He tried to comfort her, moving his hand slowly up and down her arm before stopping. She seemed so brittle to him, so fragile like she would break under too much pressure. He raised his head to look her back in the eyes, speaking a little louder. "I don't know…"

They stayed like that for what felt like a long time. Time seemed to have slowed down, allowing the tears that remained to fall down her cheeks as she allowed him to pull her thin form towards his large chest. Time passed with edging care, trying not to slip through any cracks or reach any problems.

"Tell me about him." Gendry finally broke the spell, moving back slightly from Arya and allowing her to look him in the eye. She seemed to not understand what he was meaning, so he quickly clarified. "Your father."

"He was so brave." Arya heard her voice say the words as she thought back to her father and every time her and her father had spoken before. "And honourable." She smiled meekly, trying to find words to describe the man who had just visited her in her dreams. "He was just my father, he cared a lot about us all." After spending so much time around the people in the servants quarters and Gendry - her once proper voice and speech had lessened over the year and time they had spent together. "And… and I just want him here. He would know what to do." As she spoke, her smile slipped from her lips and fell from her face into a frown."Him and you're dad fought these big wars and… and…"

"I met him once." Gendry broke her worried, obvious words with words of his own. His eyes were fixed on her face as he spoke, watching as her eyes darted to his face with such excitement at his statement."He came to see me in the forge." He explained, understanding her interest slightly - having felt the same interest whenever someone had talked about his mother. "I doubt my father knew, but then I doubt he cared." Gendry frowned slightly,

"I wonder what would have happened if your father had known." Arya said, seeming almost mystified by the idea. The smile lingered on her lips as her eyes betrayed the thoughts that truly sunk in her mind.

"There's a lot of things that could have been different." Gendry glanced away from her face, fixing his eyes on the ground with a bite sinking into his lower lip. "A lot of things that could be different."

Movement from inside the room stopped, the man outside the door noted. He heard their final words and what he wanted to hear. The pointed features of the man scanned the doorway, staring at the plain wood slab before his eyes. He grinned to himself, a familiar grin greeting the thin man's lips. He turned on the balls of his feet, folding his hand over the leather bound book clasped to his chest.

* * *

Like most nights in the Red Keep, Bronn and Tyrion sat down in the smaller man's quarters to share a flagon of wine. Red, Dornish and somehow too sweet that evening. It wasn't quite dark yet, like most evenings, when they started to drink. They did not say very much as the evening begins, their eyes fixed on the courtyard opposite through the open window.

They noticed as Gendry walked through the courtyard with two buckets towards a pump of water at the edge of the yard. "The boy, whatever his name is, cares for that girl a lot," Bronn motioned towards where the boy was, noting how he was glancing back towards the door he had come from with a look of uncertainty. He didn't check his back, nor did he look towards the group of young girls in the corner of the courtyard - who were, for some reason, out in the last lights of the day.

"Thank you for stating the obvious Bronn," Tyrion remarked towards his sellsword-turned-ser friend. He sipped his wine, before placing it on the table and continuing his sentence. "next time I need you for that I'll let you know."

Bronn turned to his friend with an almost look of annoyance in his eyes, but honesty took over that. "It'll be what will kill him." He said bluntly, no smile on his lips but honesty through and through.

The smaller in height man was half-way through a drink of his wine when his friend finished speaking. "I'm pretty sure that will be my sister." Tyrion said, raising a finger slightly from his goblet of wine as he made his remark.

"Not if that girl has anything to say about it, you didn't see her in that battle." Bronn laughed sharply, taking another drink of his own wine.

Tyrion was quick to fire back his own words. "Neither did you."

"No but I 'eard about it from the men." Bronn admitted to Tyrion, taking another drink of his wine before continuing. "Who is she? Your Lord Father seems quite invested in 'er."

"She's Sansa Stark's younger sister." Tyrion responded, not really caring very much to be discussing the Stark girl's and why his father was interested in the younger one. Nor was he interested in the Stark girls at all. "Not much younger it seems."

"How old is the girl?" Bronn asked, purely interested in her age and not her. There was something about the ideas of the men that worried him slightly - even with the amount of whores he'd had.

Tyrion took some time to think about the young girl, for he had not really thought much about it himself. He knew she has being on the road with her 'friend' since Eddard Stark died, and a long time had passed since that day had set the war and the events of their lives in motion. "Thirteen, Fourteen? I'm not sure that even she knows."

"What do you mean?" Bronn looked at the shorter man with confusion.

"She probably does not know the year or the day - they have been on the road and in my father's company for a rather long time now." Tyrion explained the subject carefully with what he knew, hoping that it would finally finish the conversation with an explanation, but with his friend's sudden interest in the younger Stark girl - he knew it would have to continue. "Why are you interested?"

"I'm wondering why your father's interested." Bronn stated and Tyrion believed his explanation, regretting the ideas that had sprouted in his mind about his friend.

"He probably sees a way to win this war." Tyrion replied briskly, the words turning the wine in his mouth sour as he drank another sip. He stared down at the blood red wine with a bitterness towards what he had said - wishing that they were not true. That the reason he had uttered was not the only logical reason for

They sat in silence for a few long moments, both taking long drinks of their wine as they thought over what they had discussed. Bronn then spoke up, his tone turned dark and truthful rather than the almost curiosity which had passed before. "She'll kill us all if she ever gets up."

"How would you know?" Tyrion asked, knowing that the man was speaking the truth but finding little belief in his words.

Bronn scoffed out a laugh and took another drink before replying. "Would you want to go up against her?" He asked, continuing to laugh lightly as he asked his question.

"She's just a girl." Tyrion said bitterly, glancing towards where his father's tower stood. He was hoping that with that the conversation would finally be over, but he soon found that nothing was ever what he wished.

"Soon enough she won't be anymore." Bronn scoffed again, ignoring the distasteful look that cast over the face of his friend.

"We are not talking about this." Tyrion cut in, his jaw twitching with slight disgust. He was not wanting to speak about the Stark girl's future because he knew full well what would take place. He also did not want to entertain the idea for much longer, since it was down to his father that these things would be taking place.

"What? Are you too honourable to talk about what the Stark girl will become in less than a few years" Bronn laughed, taking another drink of his wine and continuing to chuckle over the smaller man's reply.

"No, I just don't want to talk about it." Tyrion said bluntly, hoping that Bronn would cease his pressing into this girl's life with this. He had other things to think about, other ideas to question.

Bronn did stop, but only for a few moments. "Men marry younger than her." He said pointedly towards the man - taking another sip of his wine after he finished speaking.

"Men like that don't care about their dignity." The bitter words were beginning to seem like the only thing he would remember from this conversation, as if he would have the bitter taste of these words in his mouth for days to come.

Bronn laughed slightly. "You do?"

"More than the men who marry little girls." Tyrion protested, taking a sip of his wine to sweeten the words in his mouth before placing the goblet down on the table and refilling it, ignoring the small drops that fell onto wood.

"The boy will be Prince of the North." Bronn noted, his idea seeming quite valid in his head.

"Prince Consort." Tyrion corrected, picking up his goblet once more before continuing briskly. "He's not royal so he can't be a prince." He took a long sip of his wine before motioning to the Pod to bring more wine.

"But he's got royal blood in 'im" Bronn looked over at the smaller man with confusion, raising his eyebrow slightly at the problems of the subject. As if the court life would never make sense to him.

"He's not legitimate." Tyrion explained, leaning over his goblet and taking in the reflection of his still marred face. He was glad the wound had was not that deep from an enemy knight. "So he's not royal."

"But say if I became a Lord and married one of the Stark girls, what would I be then?" Bronn asked, honestly interested in this subject.

"I guess you would be a Prince, it's not something I've ever really thought to read about." Tyrion answered honestly, taking a sip of the wine he had stared down at, savouring the taste before grimacing and turning back to the taller man. "Don't we have more interesting topics to talk about."

"I'm learning." Bronn said smugly, knowing full well how Tyrion was annoyed by the subject but continuing to press on anyway - mostly for amusement more than anything.

"Have you heard Baelish has a new whore?" Tyrion soon posed another topic to his friend, knowing it was something he had heard from one of the girls he had seen leaving the Keep.

"Fucked her already." Bronn's smug grin continued as he felt a need to brag at his accomplishment.

"Already?" Tyrion raised an eyebrow towards the sellsword who seemed to have moved on from the conversation about the stark-girl. Something that Tyrion was very glad to be over with.

"Yes already," Bronn continued to smile, taking a long, pondering sip of his wine before continuing his now meaningless conversation with Tyrion. Neither of them remarking back to Arya Stark or the bastard boy she kept so near, nor the fact that the duo were publicly known to be sleeping in the Tower of the Hand. No, neither of them thought of those facts again that evening.

* * *

The tent of the war council was often guarded by Karstark and Bolton men, but since the latest Northern victories - this number had only increased.

But when Robb came to visit his mother that day - he requested that they leave. He needed to speak alone with his mother. So he had left his men to discuss what little was left to discuss whilst he sat with his mother.

Half-way into a conversation about home, two Karstark men brought a young boy to the opening of the tent. "This boy has something he wishes to tell you, your grace." The boy was young, possibly a little older than Arya and three times her size besides. He was afraid, and rightly so - neither Catelyn nor Robb knew what had happened to the boy before he stepped through the door.

"Go on boy…" King Robb looked at the boy who seemed to be trembling on his words. "Speak." He repeated his words, narrowing his eyes with confusion at the young boy who was looking, wet eyed and dazed at the two Starks.

"Lord Tywin has taken Arry... I mean Arya back to the Capital, your grace" The boy spat out, glancing quickly back down to the ground in case of offending the two before him - the royalty he never expected to see with his own eyes.

Catelyn insisted at the young boy, sure of what Petyr had told her only months before. She was sure that Arya was safe, but she assumed she could not have been wrong. "She had, my lady, she'd gotten to Harrenhal with me and a few others before Lord Tywin recognised who Arry was."

"Harrenhal? But that means that she was-" Lady Stark stopped whatever thought was in her mind before she spoke it - keeping it silent in her mind and not letting the others in the room know what she was thinking.

"Lord Tywin recognised her?" Robb asked, staring down at the young boy from across the area between them, the empty wooden void which filled the air between

"She hung around with Gendry and then he sent one of the knights to collect her and that was the last I saw of the two of them. Well before they came to say good bye." The young boy before them explained, his eyes still staring down at the ground before him

Robb and Catelyn both looked confused at the boy, not saying anything for a few moments before Catelyn asked the boy: "Who is this Gendry?"

"He was a blacksmith," the boy said, feeling his eyes prick with instilled sadness from before, from when they left before. "and my friend."

"But that means Arya's alive." Robb smiled to his mother, ensuring that she saw his smile of almost joy and relief. Relief that was quickly washed away with realisation

"And would explain why they never mentioned her…" Catelyn stated, understanding finally.

"Thank you boy." Robb smiled towards the boy, turning to his mother and away from the boy. He allowed his feet to push into the stone heavily, working against the stone and smiling lightly towards his mother. "You may leave us now…" Catelyn's eyes scanned the room with slight worry casting over her face.

"Arya will be okay…your grace" The boy stepped forward slightly, noticing the slight worry that cast over the woman's face before her. She turned at the words, smiling slightly towards him "her and Gendry will manage."

"What's your name boy?" Catelyn asked him, hoping he would look her in the eyes as she realised he really did understand - and he was telling the truth.

"M'names Hot Pie, your grace." Hot Pie smiled, finally looking up to see the two before him in the eyes - something he was avoiding doing out of respect. "Arya was my friend and she'd mentioned her brothers to me, it's an honor to meet you."

* * *

Arya and Gendry had being sat in a comfortable silence since they had realised that they no longer had anything to talk about. They had talked about how they thought Hot Pie was, they had talked about how she was feeling and they had talked about King's Landing. They had only really just finished speaking to each other and were sitting in the comfortable silence formed after conversation when Lord Tywin Lannister entered the room. He glanced around with little care, noticing the lightness of the room and the odd smell of fur which hung in the room.

"Leave us, boy." He finally turned to the two children, looking straight into their upturned faces. Both had turned quickly to face him when he entered and were ready to greet him when he cut off their empty greetings. Gendry stood quickly, bowing slightly and leaving the room. A quick glance swooped over his shoulder towards Arya before he left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Lord Tywin stayed stood for a few moments, looking Arya in the eyes. She had pushed herself up so that she was sitting up on the bed, her hands pushed down by her sides to keep her upright. Lord Tywin sat slowly, placing one hand on his arm of the chair and seeming to hide the other. "I have something to give you girl."

"My lord?" Arya looked at the Lannister Lord with more confusion as she'd had moments before. She cocked her head slightly to the side and narrowed her eyes slightly at the lord, as if trying to understand why he was doing it. Her actions more obvious than how they would be normally if she was standing or well.

"I overheard some men mention you used to have a sword." Lord Tywin said nonchalantly, staring the girl almost blankly in the face as he spoke. He didn't seem to really care for what he was saying or what he was meaning.

"No…" Her eyes widened, her voice lessening in the word she spoke. The hollow of her voice dropping slightly with the word she had managed to gasp out.

"Don't lie to me girl." Lord Tywin said bluntly, moving his arm sharply so that he was placing the thin sword onto the bed. He gave little emotion doing so, noticing how the young stark wolf jumped back slight at the sight of silver in the room. "Here, take it."

Slowly she moved leant over the blankets to hold the light blade, a smile reflecting in the light of the shimmer. She held it in her left, appreciating it as if it was a gift from the seven or her own gods. She smiled heartily towards Lord Tywin. "Thank you, my lord."

Lord Tywin felt a small pull at the sides of his lips, something he quickly put a stop to. He briskly left the room with a quick "You're welcome, girl." to allow her time with her sword. He had to speak with the boy on another matter anyway.

* * *

Gendry left the room carefully, his eyes scanning the full tables of empty things which faced him. Books he could never read, paper he could never understand how to use, ink that would never give him any worth. Goblets of a liquid he never wanted to drink too much of, food he had never seen before, blunted instruments he'd never really felt a need to use on the road.

He looked at every red silk and golden shimmer, at every old wood desk and every decoration which adorned the walls. Rooms in the past few days he had grown too used to. He needed to get out but he knew of no place to go.

So he soon found himself sat outside of their rooms, he arms resting on his knees and his eyes cast towards the ground. His head hung heavily in the gap created as he contemplated how right his lord had being about the rest he'd not had.

He hadn't noticed the groups of lords and ladies passing him. He hadn't noticed their confused or annoyed glares. He hadn't noticed a younger lady stop with her handmaiden, at least not until the lady spoke up. "What are you doing out here, Gendry?" The auburn haired girl smiled, her hair falling naturally over her shoulders as the boy slowly lifted his head to face her.

"You know my name, my lady?" Gendry asked, quite confused and racking his brain to see if Joffery had mentioned his name in the only time he had left the rooms. But he could not remember.

Sansa Stark laughed lightly at her sister's friend, causing the boy to feel almost stupid in what he had said. But then, to her, it almost made sense for him to be confused - for King's Landing still confused her.

"I'm waiting." Gendry answered her earlier question with a sigh, realising that the girl was only right in what she was asking. More right than he would ever understand.

"Waiting?" Sansa asked, raising her eyebrow at the older boy with a slight glaze of confusion.

"Lord Tywin is visiting your sister." Gendry explained briskly, the words and meaning noted by both Sansa and Shae.

"Ah." Sansa sat down slowly beside the bull, folding her hands in her lap and smiling sweetly at the boy. "Well I'm sure you wouldn't mind me sitting with you?" She continued to smile even after the sweetened words had left her lips.

"I'm not sure-" Gendry spoke as hesitantly as he may have before, carefully finding the words in his mind before being cut off by the Stark girl.

"If you are about to talk to me about the others in the court, I have had worse." She stated in hushed tones, her eyes glancing around the courtyard to see if anyone was there, as if she knew that they would be watched. But she did know that, because she knew that "But it sounded like King Joffery was subjecting you to worse."

"I guess he doesn't enjoy that his grandfather won't force me to leave." Gendry mused to himself. He had not really thought to care if anyone heard, because he hadn't thought that any one would care.

"Lord Tywin brought you here, didn't he?" Shae asked from where she was sat beside Sansa, she was leaning forwards slightly on her knees so that she could see Gendry nod lightly at him. "Why would he make you leave?"

"I don't know." Gendry said softly, hardly above a whisper. A frown sitting on his lips as he knew exactly why, he just didn't want to discuss "Maybe because I'm King Robert's bastard." He frowned at the words as if they offended him in some way.

"L- I was told they all died." The girl said, frowning slightly as if her almost muttered word also offended her. She leaned back slightly as Gendry leaned around his knees so that he was facing the two women more - enclosing them in conversation more.

"They tried to kill me, until  _he_  found me - I  _was_  dead." Gendry stressed on some of the words, his voice returning to a normal volume as he spoke with them. His storm blue eyes daring to look into the eyes of the others there.

"What do you mean?" Sansa asked, confused at what the older boy than her was meaning. She had no idea what he was meaning, other than he assumed that the 'he' was the Hand of the King. But the whole subject of the conversation had turned to something she had very little ideas about.

"Your sister, she lied to cover it up." Gendry smiled slightly to himself, the smile seeming grim on his lips as the memory of what had happened haunted his eyes. He glanced to the side, swallowing before continuing. "She became 'Nan' and I was never asked my name." He explained to Sansa, hoping that she would somehow understand the almost whimsical nature of it all. "It never mattered." He smiled slightly, turning to face away from the Stark girl slightly so that he was facing the wall.

The door then opened just behind him, causing him to jump from his thoughts and Sansa to also be surprised by the sight of the Lannister Lord looking down at the trio. "Boy." Tywin frowned down at the boy who quickly stood and bowed his head.

"Lord Tywin." Gendry replied courteously. He didn't glance towards where Sansa and her handmaiden sat and watched the exchange, nor did he think to look up fully at the lord in the face.

"Your friend is resting," Tywin told Gendry promptly, keeping the same straight face throughout every word he spoke. "I'm having a Maester come and see you later to begin teaching you lessons." He paused for a moment, causing Gendry to look him in the eyes. Tywin kept very little emotion on his face but saw some sort of confusion or appreciation on the young boy's face. "He will be here later today."

"Thank you, m'lord." Gendry muttered, loud enough so that it sounded clear to the Lord but still hesitant in how it sounded.

" _My lord_  now boy, you are going to need to say it like that from now on." Tywin corrected the boy, watching as confusion glazed over the boy's eyes.

Gendry wasn't really sure how he was supposed to react, he wasn't quite sure what was happening and was still hesitant in his words. "Thank you, Mi- My Lord." He stuttered, almost repeating the saw words that the Lord had corrected him on. The words seemed foreign and odd. A clarity and sound which seemed like it was from another world to the one he had being brought up in.

"Good day, Gendry." Something threatened to pull at the sides of Lord Tywin's lips once more, but the Lannister Lord quickly stopped it and clasped the boy on the shoulder before leaving.

Gendry stayed stood where he was, frozen for a few moments before turning back to face where Sansa and Shae were sat. "Come and visit your sister at some point this week, m'lady." He smiled, not caring for what Lord Tywin had just said about his pronunciation and more for how Sansa could see her sister. "She should be well enough to see you soon."

"Are you sure she would want to, Gendry." Sansa spoke hesitantly, carefully testing the words with hesitation. She was worried her sister still would not want anything to do with her.

"You're her family." Gendry reassured her, a small smile almost gracing his lips as he spoke. "I never really had a family, but if I did - in these times." He paused, something stopping him from speaking as if it was hard to say the words he meant. "I would never want to let them go."

The two sat in silence, Sansa taking in what he had said before Gendry raised himself to his feet, "Good day Lady Sansa." He spoke clearly and smiled towards the Stark girl before walking back into his rooms and towards his own Stark girl.

He did not tell Arya about his conversation with her sister, he just sat down in his seat he had come to occupy often and listen to how she spoke of her sword.

No Maester had to tell him that she would survive this, even if he was not sure how.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N I am so so so so so so so so so so (add another so x1000000000 on the end) sorry about how long this has taken. And I have quite a few reasons which I will quickly list now and then try and excuse myself into a death in the ending note which you can skip because no one really cares do they?
> 
> Okay reasons: bad imagery, the length, procrastination (Assassin’s Creed), personal writing projects, video editing and finally exams. 
> 
> Sorry again and I hope you can enjoy this.

The air that day was still, hardly a breath moved the flowers or grass of the courtyard as the daily comings and goings passed through the halls. A few rises of the sun and settings, at least, had passed since Lord Tywin had last spoken with Arya and through that time very little had happened.

Little news of the war had passed through the city, other than minor wins and information of the small amount of troop movement taking place. But in the still air of that day those words discussed about the war just seemed to hang there to become conversation pieces of the court and ignored truths and horrors.

The light was only just cresting the walls of the Red Keep as he pressed his hands on the window's edge, the orange and pale green shadows were only just clearing the way for the red and yellow pure light of day to flow through.

Tywin Lannister's eyes moved through the rabbles of early rising Tyrells and others to the edge of the yard where he saw Maester Pycelle waddling to meet him. He did not want to be kept long by this subject, for it would not be taking him long for the truth to be found.

The door behind Tywin opened slightly, causing the man to turn and stride towards his desk. "My Lord Hand." Pycelle coughed slightly as he slowly stepped towards where Tywin stood, "Why have you called me to visit you at this early hour?"

"Arya Stark." Tywin spoke bluntly, words sharp compared to the air around him. He pursed his lips slightly, keeping his face stoic throughout every word he spoke. "She has not died as was first expected."

"It seems to have not being an infection of the wound, my Lord." Pycelle uttered his words with a slight doubt and worry, as if he would be personally effected by them if they went wrong. "but instead some weak poison someone sort against her." Tywin was not surprised by this fact, as he had seen her recovery act much quicker than the men who had recovered from corruption in their wounds. "Perhaps to purge her stomach-"

Tywin had heard enough. "Thank you Maester Pycelle" His words were brisk, stopping the conversation quickly. Maester Pycelle realised this quickly and offered his 'Good Day' soon after. "And can you also remove the essence of nightshade from my daughter's possession." Tywin spoke before the Maester could leave, ensuring that he could hear him with an almost boom to his voice. Pycelle muttered his agreement before leaving the room at a quicker speed compared to when he entered.

By the time Pycelle had crossed the courtyard, Tywin found himself standing to look out of the window at the sky. The sun had finally cleared the walls and had moved away the clouds from the edges of the sky. Below the rabbles had only increased in size and off put Tywin from leaving his rooms to check elsewhere in the castle. He decided to have his squire run any errands for him.

But as the time began to slow and the sun had not moved from its position in the morning sky, Tywin found himself moving to check on the boy and the Stark Girl. Their rooms were not far from his, the winding halls and corridors or the Tower of the Hand made the distance between rooms seem both distant as negligible at similar times. The rooms were actually levels apart, but they themselves were close together - meaning that this distance that day seemed quite short compared to the actual distance.

The sight that faced the Lannister man was, admittedly, surprising. The young girl in his wardship was curled up in a hard wooden chair, the bedclothes she had being wearing clinging to her thin body as she watched the young boy beside her with interest - but yet laughter escaped her lips at every second stutter. The boy was glaring at her in short glances but was concentrating on something other than his metalwork.

The sight was something that was unexpected, but yet he had also expected it at the same time. He found it intriguing, but it took him a few moments for his words to pass out as harsh as he needed them to be. "Arya."

His voice cut across the air and allowed her to jump slightly as it was unexpected to her. She quickly stood and walked towards him, her own words spilling from her lips. "My Lord?"

"When did the Maester say you would be able to spend time in court." He asked her, his words seeming sketchy and interested the girl - as the words did not fit the man asking them.

"I'm not sure, my Lord, Gendry said that they told him it would be another week." Arya said with uneasy words, as if the words were too heavy for her to understand her consequences of every syllable. She knew that though, but she didn't want to disappoint the man before her, because she knew that with one wrong word or breath the two of them would be dead.

Dead. Like her father was for his wrong words in the same court she played in. She glanced up at the man before her, the grandfather of the boy who had killed he father but hadn't swung the sword - and all she could see for the man who seemed to care for her.

Tywin pressed his lips together into an almost grin to himself, not replying to her remark about her friend's information for a few lengthened moments. "Then next week I will need your help in an important matter." He nodded at her and she nodded lightly with agreement and mimicking his actions lightly. "I will have a squire send for you."

"Thank you My Lord." Arya bowed her head quickly and glanced down at her clothing, ignoring the sight of the blood that had seeped into the tunic from the days she had spent in the room recovering. She then moved slightly towards the doorway once more, still able to hear Gendry and the Maester's conversation through the wood.

"And Arya?" She suddenly stopped at the question, turning back to face hum with slight worry adorning her eyes.

"Yes, My Lord?" Arya asked, peering up at the man with attention staying in her eyes whilst her voice seemed unaffected and clear as if the illness she had just had could have being doubted.

"There's some clothing for you in your rooms." Tywin informed her, noticing some relief filling her gaze as she momentarily turned back to the door to smile at it.

"Thank you My Lord." Arya said with courteous words and ever needed looks. "Good Day." She bowed. And promptly, left.

* * *

The cresting light poured over the walls of the Red keep and into the small dank room where the young girl lay. The small windows seeming to open up an widen to allow more light into the room and fill it with a brightness that meant that the young girl could not stay asleep any longer.

The small girl sat upright slowly, brushing the sleep out of her tired eyes and pushing herself around with a slow pace so that her feet were touching the cool stone covering the floor. At that she gasped, surprising herself with the movement. Below her bed the wolf groaned and pushed her paw out from under the bed which took up a large part of the room.

She pushed herself up onto her feet, stumbling slightly and placing her hands on the table beside the bed. Her bare feet rocking slightly on the cool surface and her hands bracing her on the wood until she managed to stand stably.

The Stark girl glanced down at her form, at where she expected her shirt to be stuck to her stomach with dried blood and slaves - but only found the sight of a tight off white linen covering the wound with a light splash of blood dusting under the cloth. She pulled at the edges of the thick undershirt that hung over her frame, glancing around the room to find some sort of riding breeches that would slip on under the shirt. Noticing a pair hanging over the edge of one of the many tables in the room, she stepped over towards the folded pair and threw them towards the bed, before walking back to the bed, sitting down and pulling them on. She brushed them down before bracing herself to stand once more. Pain bellowing through her side as she had moved to stand up too quickly. She groaned, feeling quite useless and moved her way, on unsteady feet, to the main room - where she could hear the sound of strained voices at work on something.

Her feet padded across the cool stone, leading her towards where she could see Gendry - dressed for the day in a deep yellow and black jacket and breeches that Arya was unsure why it had being sent to him. He was still low-born after all and the Lannisters were not known for their generosity to the poor. Beside Gendry was a man dressed in heavy-looking robes and a long chain adorning his neck - it was not as long as Maester Pycelle's but it was around the same length of Maester Luwin's, Arya noted and wondered if the old Maester she had known so well in Winterfell was still there. She knew she could only hope.

Before the two at the table was a heavy-looking book similar to the one she had seen Bran reading when he was younger and a small amount of foods: fruits and breads that seemed to have being left from whenever breakfast had taken place. Arya stepped quietly towards the table and sat down in one of the empty seats.

"You're awake." Gendry smiled, his eyes widening slightly as he saw her thin form move towards the table. As she sat he pushed the bowl of fruits towards her.

"Well no." Arya laughed lightly at the irritation playing on her friends' face caused by her words. She plucked a fruit out of the bowl, a pear, and bit into it with a hidden joy at feeling the fruit juice hit her taste buds. It suddenly made her savour the taste, linger on the ideal of food for longer than she had in a while. She quickly realised she hadn't tasted foods other than milk and bread for days and the taste of sweet foods quickly cause her stomach to rumble.

"It's good to see you awake, Lady Stark." The Maester sat beside Gendry spoke up, allowing Gendry to take a quick break from his studies in him joining in the conversation.

"Thank you, Maester Frenken." Arya smiled at the man sat across from her, leaning down on her arm so that the hip with the wound jutted out slightly - keeping it away from the wooden side of the table. With a smile she glanced up at the boy, curiosity lacing her eyes as she asked her question. "What are you learning Gendry?"

"Reading." The older boy answered abruptly and sternly, his eyes kept to the words on the page - the unknown markings that he'd never being able to understand. A little before he had gone over letters with the Maester, but now in the words he could see didn't seem to make sense anymore.

With Arya sat beside him he was finding it harder, with the pressure of an extra set of eyes on his words and his struggle. Her smile addled face and pure joy at the fact that she could stand and be with sat up in somewhere else other than her bed. There was more than that, she was laughing lightly at the words he stubbled on - not intentionally. Not intentionally at all, she was just struggling to control her joy and the wearing off of her drug addled mind. It all took it's tole. The little pleasures in life causing more joy than they ever had before, an honest smile on her lips for the reason of being well enough to stand.

"Mi'lady," Gendry turned to her, his eyes narrowed with annoyance and his words snarled out with little grace.

She looked up at him, laughter still spilling from her lips as she cast her eyes towards him. "Gendry." She mockingly said with a similar voice to the one he'd spoken to her with.

"Are you not tired?" He asked with a slight sharp seriousness to the tone.

"No." She smirked towards him as he turned his eyes back down to the paper as the Maester glared at him.

Moments of stuttered words passed painlessly by and Gendry slowly passed a rather simple page on the Baratheon house. Three long pages later and a knock was heard at the door. Tywin entered and called Arya to speak with him.

"I think that is all for today, Gendry." Maester Frenken slowly stood, sending a cautionary glance towards the shut door. He began to collect his books together, leaving on of the simple books on the desk for the boy to read at some point - with any hope.

"Thank you, Maester Frenken." Gendry stood, attempting to help the man before steppingg back slightly when he noticed he was just fumbling. "Will you be back tomorrow?" He asked, almost hopefully, not really noticing when the door opened across from them and Arya walked back in for once. He had, admittedly, enjoyed at least some of his lessons so far, and the King's Landing stationed Maester's guidance.

"I do not know, it will matter on Lord Tywin." Frenken glanced over the boy's hopeful look before turning to leave with a muttered 'good day' - he was not sure what he could have said to the boy, but he was sure it would not have helped.

Gendry stood at the table staring at the doorway for a few moments, not really sure what to say or do. Arya stood beside him, looking up at his face and hoping that he would say something to her - but he did not. The two stayed like that for a short while, long enough but not as if neither were

It was Arya who broke the silence, not Gendry. "Lord Tywin said there are clothes for me in my rooms." She stated, turning slightly towards the shut door she had entered through after her conversation with Tywin before turing to the door to her own rooms. She stepped a few strides towards her door, staring at her door with confusion before Gendry replied to her.

"He had a chest brought up here for you," Gendry said, staring at he back of her head before she turned to face him. She turned slowly, carefully on her feet as if the morning alone had already tired her out. Gendry wondered if responding to Sansa's request to see her sister that day was a bad idea. "It should be at the base of your bed."

She nodded and moved slowly into her room, ignoring the fact that Gendry was following behind her in preparation for any issues or any worries she may have had. He let her open the door on her own and the chest before he managed to glance into the piles of red and gold clothing before them. He sighed slightly and then turned to leave the room without another word. Arya narrowed her eyes at his fleeting form and heard an wolfish humph from under her bed. Arya crouched lowly down to see a pair of golden eyes staring up at her. She smiled, feel tears pool in her tired eyes - she had noticed that those dreams were not all just dreams in that moment.

Arya then heard footsteps approach and stood fully, pushing her hands into the quite neatly folded clothing and pulling out the top piece of clothing. "I sent one of the guards to get someone to help you get ready." Gendry said, leaning against the edge of the door with a rest of his hand on the wood. He glanced over the material in her hands and started sniggering slightly, trying to imagine her in something that odd.

"Stop it." She glared at him, dropping the material back onto the top of the pile so that the landed messily on top of the folded clothing and folded her arms over her chest. She took a few long strides and continued to glare the entire time.

He stopped abruptly, noticing how her glare was continuing strongly the entire time. "I apologise, mi'lady." Gendry bowed mockingly slightly, not surprised to find a fist planting into his chest when he did so. He found it hard to stop himself from laughing again, biting his lip to stop himself from laughing harder.

Her anger continued as she stood there before him, her small form reaching his shoulder but her glare seeming stronger than her own strength. "Don't-"

She was cut off by the the sudden sound of two sets of footsteps entering the rooms, Gendry turned to face them - finding two women looking at him with a slight confusion and worry in their eyes. They quickly pushed him aside and away from the rooms, sitting him down at the table with his book. He raised an eyebrow but did not argue since he did not truly understand what was happening.

Arya, on the other hand, quickly wished that Gendry had not asked for help for her. The two women took one look at Arya and decided to collect her clean water into a basin to wash her hands, feet and face once more. They did not touch her wounds, but they did look over them once or twice with a worry she did not want to see.

They then pulled clothing from the top of the chest, handing the many layers of the dress to the young girl and ignoring how they quickly pilled up.

Thankfully, for Arya, they decided that she could pull on her own small clothes. Allowing her that before the dress was draped over her form and the strings at the side pulled tightly so that her thin form was accented by the tightness of the dress. On her stomach, they pulled a tightening belt around. As they did so, Arya had paid little attention to the colours until she finally glanced down, seeing Lannister red staring up at her and not greys or even blues like her mother or sister had worn. Red.

She quickly dismissed the women, not even sure of their names as they left before fumbling with the skirts. Something, she assumed the colours, made her feel sickened by wearing the dress - she could not find it in her to say it to anyone. It was not that she wasn't brave, or strong, it was that she just didn't understand.

After she had glared at the dress for a few moments, she heard Nymeria whimper and so Arya grabbed the plate of cold food that someone had left for her and placed it under the bed. Nymeria whimpered once more at the sight of Arya, causing her to sigh once more. Once she had managed to stand up fully, she walked slowly out of the room and towards where Gendry was sat - engrossed in the words he was trying to read.

"Is my sister still here?" Arya paused at the table edge, pulling at the edges of the sleeves and turning to face the boy stood across the table from her. He had turned away from her whilst she walked back into the room and was slowly glancing his shoulder slightly when she asked him her question.

He turned to face her fully, glancing over her clothing quickly before he answered. "She should be coming to see you today, I think." A slight smile adorned his lips as he saw her eyes light up a little at the idea - although he had heard her complain many a time about her sister, he knew that he was right in what he had told Sansa: family is important. His smile lessened slightly at that idea but he kept his eyes on Arya's face, hoping she would not notice.

"Really?" Arya's eyes widened slightly, a slight smile honestly dancing over her lips, as if it was something that had never happened before. She then suddenly seemed shocked and worried by the fact that her sister was visiting that next day. "Why?" Her voice seemed shallowed through her question, causing Gendry's slight smile to drop.

"She asked." He smiled supportively at her, hoping she would understand that he was doing this for her and not for anyone else.

He just hoped it was something she would understand.

* * *

The day wore on and the sun rose until the shadows were short and the heat was strong. Gendry and Arya hd not moved from their seats very often, the table ladened with Gendry's books and morsels of food remaining from the bowls of fruit and plates of salted meat they had being brought throughout the morning.

It was then when a light rap against the door was heard and Lady Sansa was announced into the room.

She stood before them dressed in a pastel gown and Gendry quickly skirted out-of-the-way, allowing the duo time as he muttered his goodbyes. "I'll you leave you m'lady, Arya." He bowed his head and ducked out of the room, leaving with one last glance over the two and a reassuring smile towards the younger.

"Thank you Gendry." Sansa smiled over a the blacksmith as he left the room, glad that he had found a way for her to spend time alone with her sister - even if she was not sure it had been allowed by any Lord or Lady who watched over them. "How are you Arya?"

"I've felt better, Sansa." Arya stated, her eyes meeting her sisters with a tired look and worried gazes.

"So…" Sansa paused, hands clenching at her sides as she tried to find the words of something that did not remind the duo of the fact they were there - or the fact of when they last saw each other. With so much lingering on her mind she went with the topic that first came to mind, and had also just left the room. "Gendry?"

"He's a blacksmith, I met him on the road." Arya smiled and patted the seat beside her, she pushed what remained of the fresh, still whole, fruit towards her sister and allowed the bowl to make a slight swooshing sound over her words. Sansa sat with the same grace and elegance as she had before and it astounded her younger sister.

"Road? When you escaped here last?" Sansa asked, her voice peppered with curiosity as she plucked a pear from the bowl and took a bite. Her smile untamed as she sat opposite her sister - something that had not happened in what felt like decades.

"Yes. We were travelling north with the night's watch." Arya smiled at the light memories of when she first left King's Landing, when she could sit with Hot Pie, Lommy and Gendry and nothing would matter. A frown quickly reclaimed her features as she remembered the rest, as she remembered the days and weeks afterwards. "But that didn't work out." She did wonder where Hot Pie was and where they would have been by then if Yorren hadn't died - would she have gotten home? Would Robb or her family find her before then? Her eyes dropped to her palms.

"He would have killed you Arya." Sansa hissed out as she saw the face she pulled, the frown which danced over her younger sister's face soon danced over hers and she felt her cheeks loose what was once smiles of fake joys.

Arya looked up from her hands to reply to her sister. A small smile in hope to reassure the sister she once hated. "Gendry will watch both of us, he's strong." She was sure of that fact at least.

"I don't think he would be able to protect us from Joffery, Arya." Sansa frowned through her words, glancing down at her own hands. She then blankly stared at the wood before pulling a pitcher of water towards herself and pouring a goblet-full into the metal cups before her.

"What did he do to you?" Arya asked, her eyes fixed on the emptiness in her sister's actions. Her sister stayed tight-lipped however, her eyes fixed on the clear liquid that shimmered between her hands. "Sansa, what did he do?" She rephrased her question, hoping that it would get a response out of her sister and getting nothing more.

"I hate this place Arya, even with you here." Sansa replied, her voice echoing the bitter blank look she cast at the wood and Lannister sigil sitting on the edge of the table.

"We have to leave." Arya insisted to her sister, keeping her eyes set emptily on the material draped from the table. She pulled at it harshly, watching as it fell lamely to the ground - wishing that it was just as easy with more than just a scrap of Lannister material.

"Don't worry about me Arya." Sansa said nonchalantly, as if the words meant nothing to her. Her eyes fixed elsewhere than her sister, pausing for moments on the stone archways of the windows and the expanse of empty colours beyond.

Arya saw fit then to change the subject. "I saw you there," Sansa looked back to her sister with a reflex similar to a hares. Her eyes as wide as doe's when a hunting party was charging towards it - but confusing laced her gaze, as if she didn't understand. " _That_  day, beside the queen and the council and Joffery." Arya paused for a few moments, gulping down a sort of lump that had formed in her throat as she thought back to the moment she was meaning: on the steps of Baelor, clinging to the statue - her hands still aching as if it was only a day ago. "I thought you had died when I saw you fall." She frowned down at her hands and back up at her sister's worried face.

"Who took you?" Sansa asked after a few more moments had passed, not remembering seeing her sister's face in the crowd that day. She, admittedly, tried not to think of that day. That so called mercy she had witnessed before her eyes. "Who saved you?" She rephrased her question when she had noticed her younger sister had not replied to her question.

"The man that came to see father about the Night's Watch." Arya explained, taking a drink of her water in an attempt to soften her suddenly dry throat. "Yorren." As she said his name she felt her eyes wander away from her sister's face and she once again took another sip of her water.

"They've hurt so many people in this." Sansa kept her frown still on her lips, taking a sip of her own water as she felt her throat dry. She wouldn't cry - no, the time for crying was long passed. She was not the same girl that came to King's Landing all that time ago.

"Robb will find a way to help us." Arya said, a glimmer of hope and dreaming glinting through her eyes as she placed the goblet down on the wooden slab of a table before them." Robb and mother will-"

"Arya." Sansa spoke, cutting off whatever dreams Arya was verbally imagining - bringing the younger girl back to the reality and harshness as the sound of clashing steel on steel echoed from the courtyard beyond the window filled the empty silence.

"We have to hope, Sansa." Arya said, meekly frowning down at her hands reminding herself of all of those times on the road, where she had lost all of the hope she had left in her. When they were at Harrenhal with the men who tortured men for fun or 'information' or when they were on the road back, when it almost was idealistic in a wartime for them to be so peaceful. "We have to."

"Who will come Arya?" Sansa asked her, disbelief ceasing her gaze as the older sister who often berated her over her dreams suddenly had even more unrealistic ones than she'd had herself. "Who can save us when they have to fight Lannister Armies to get here?" The older sister reasoned with the younger one, her hands lingering at the edges of the goblet with care - like if she touched it something would happen to it. "You saw what they did to Stannis' fleet."

"Robb is winning the war. I saw the armies. I saw their battlefields." Arya spoke, her voice filling the room - causing the older Stark sister to cringe slightly and glance towards the doorway before taking a long drink of her water.

"Can we stop talking about this now?" Sansa hissed out her question, hoping that her sister would take on what she was saying and understand. But she doubted she would, because she had not heard the rumours about the tunnels and the rooms that 'little birds' could listen through.

"You sound just like Gendry." Arya rolled her eyes at her sisters response and groaned at this. She didn't understand why they were all so adverse to talking about it - they were captives there, they were expected to talk about escaping.

Sansa knew that Arya was thinking about escaping, that was pretty obvious - but she had her own plan that was more likely to work than her sister's. She saw how her sister's gaze dropped slightly at the mention of her friend and quickly jumped at the opportunity to change the conversation. "Arya, what happened?"

"He figured it out." The younger Stark spoke her words glumly, as if it was something she'd forced herself to think over time and time again. Though this wasn't true, it still nagged at her mind. "He saw me and Gendry at Harrenhall."

Sansa was not sure how to respond to this - her sister was speaking in clipped sentences that relied on her responding with only more questions. But she had learnt to not ask to many questions in King's Landing, meaning that she couldn't find the words to ask her sister another question.

The younger Stark quickly noticed the silence and stood up, a little too quickly and cringed at the feeling that shot through her side. Sansa noticed this, of course, and frowned. "What happened to you, in the battle, should never have happened."

"I wouldn't have happened if we hadn't tried to escape." Arya spoke with truth lingering on her voice, honesty and reflection momentarily glinting in her eyes. At that she heard a slight growl from the bed room she had being sleeping in - so she walked towards the sound and sat down on the bed beside the wolf.

"You don't know, about the games they play here, do you?" Sansa asked, perching herself beside where her sister had sat on the feather bed.

"I will manage." Arya smiled sadly to herself, lacing her fingers through the thick matted fur at Nymeria's side, the side nearest to her with clenched fingers and lessening tension. "I have Nymeria and Gendry." She glanced down at the wolf's fur, stroking long lengths down the wolf's belly and looking down into her saddened and tired eyes. "Gendry said something to me this morning, about Lord Tywin." Arya glanced back up at Sansa as she spoke, keeping her hands in Nymeria's fur as she said her words. "He says he dresses me up like his daughter and stations guards outside our doors as if he is afraid of something."

"He is right, Arya." The older Stark said with saddened eyes, if the blacksmith's apprentice could realise it than she hoped that her younger sister could take it in as well. She leant over to her sister's dire wolf with a wondering gaze, confusion lacing her eyes as she remembered that Nymeria had being sent away by her younger sister that frightful day she lost Lady. Sansa let her fingers lace through the dire wolf's fur and stroke down the wolf's side - her question about Nymeria dissipating in her mouth as her sister spoke.

"Why didn't you try to escape?" Arya asked her sister once more.

"Arya." Sansa sighed, realising that Arya was still fixating on this subject. "Don't-"

"Sansa, why didn't you?" She cut her sister off, insisting once more on asking these questions.

"You don't know what's it's like here." Sansa snapped back, hissed through gritted teeth. "What it was like before you came back."

"We will get back home." Arya promised Sansa, looking her sister in the eyes. When she saw her sister's eyes look doubtful at this fact, she insisted more. "We will." She smiled slightly, not a true smile, but one that managed to cause her sister to believe that Arya was telling whatever truth was true to her. "And we shall stay in Winterfell and rule with Robb because there will be no  _Queen Regents_  or  _Kings_  to tell us we are wrong." Arya saw her sister smile slightly at this idea as Arya's untrue smile dropped slightly, it almost brought a true smile of its own onto her lips."And we won't be called traitors."

"And Gendry?" Sansa asked, frowning slightly to herself as she reminded herself it was only an idealist dream they were wishing for.

"Gendry can come too." Arya smiled, pulling slightly at her own hair before continuing. "We'll sit beside Robb - where father used to sit, and Bran will ride in a saddle made specially for him - like the one Robb wrote about." Arya created an image in her head of the halls of Winterfell light with soft firelight from torches, with her family there and everything was normal. Sometimes the image showed her father, and the direwolves, or some of the men like Jory or Ser Rodrick. But then she would bring herself back to the ground, think about the living, think about how they must feel - her brothers, her mother. "And mother can tell me off for messing up my dresses and plait your hair in the Northron style."

"Tell me more, Arya." Sansa liked the sound of this world, this world imagined up of peace and love. Of safety, of home. She loved the idea of it all, the thought of it, the dreams she could have of it.

"Help me then Sansa." Arya smiled lightly, enjoying the idea all the more.

* * *

Gendry leaned over the edge of the light tiled fountain, the crystalline water glittered with shimmers of fading summer sun as the final darting flings of coloured flowers wilted at the edges of the flower beds. It must have been beautiful, once - he mused as he turned to sit down at the fountain's edge. He wished that he could actually do something there, but he couldn't read half as good as he liked and he didn't think the keep had a blacksmith that would welcome the Baratheon bastard with open arms. He sighed at that thought and got up to walk away from the fountain. He strolled around the edges of the gardens - along the flower and grass lines tiled and dirt pathways. Thorough the canopy lead short hallways and out into more open space. Making sure to avoid the eyes that seemed to watch him and to remember the way he was walking. Because soon enough he would need to head back.

After looping around the garden once, he decided to make the pattern again. Past where the Tyrell's sat and looked up at him at he passed - some of the girls giggling when he glanced wide eyed at them, an elderly lady rolling her eyes in annoyance at them. He assumed that if he ever talked with the lady, they would get on. Past where septas sat with young girls, teaching them sewing or poetry or other things which Arya often expressed her hate for. Past where knights fought with each other in practise, in padded shirts and breeches which he abhorred. But then he had been forced into them whilst they were travelling south.

He looped around the gardens twice before sitting at the fountain's edge. His eyes cast to the ground mostly, sometimes darting back to the closed door of the rooms Tywin had them share. Joined by a few other rooms and a stairwell to the main section of the Tower of the Hand. It was obvious to him that Sansa was still yet to leave - since her honour guard still stood outside of the door.

He glanced down at his feet, kicking some dust up with the sole of his boot, when a shadow stopped over his head.

"I hadn't thought Lord Tywin was letting his new wards out of their rooms." Gendry looked up to find a well-dressed grey-haired man around the age of his old master staring down at him. The man held a thick leather-bound book to his chest - with it's lavishly embossed cover pressed against the lapel of the obviously expensive material. At the clasp of his cloak was the pin of a mockingbird - of which in his little time studying with Arya and sometimes Lord Tywin he recognised.

"Lord Baelish," Gendry frowned as the man sat beside him. He had learnt from Arya's thoughts she had expressed to him that he was not a nice man, or one to be trusted. "He isn't, but Arya is speaking with mi'lady Sansa and I thought it best to give them space."

"Women always seem to need space when talking, I have found." Lord Baelish laughed to himself slightly - not noticing how Gendry looked ah him with a slight annoyance. Gendry wished to be alone again now that Lord Baelish was there. "Walk with me, boy."

"I'd rather not mi'lord. I'm not sure Lord Tywin would approve of me wandering too far from the tower." Gendry said, staying seated when Baelish stood up prepared to walk with him around the garden. Baelish turned to him, a frown marring his perfectly kept facial hair.

"You have already wandered the garden twice," Baelish said pointedly, glancing down at boy who relented and stood slowly. He followed Lord Baelish's lead, his eyes levelled on the man with unease.

"Okay, Lord Baelish. But only once more." Gendry said, hesitant in the fact that Lord Baelish had known exactly that fact. But he did not verbalise it. "Arya had asked me to... Work with her on somethings - so I must be back soon." He chose his words carefully, he was honest but ever since Lord Tywin sat him down that day when Arya was hurt and told him not to trust anyone except Arya - he knew he had to be careful.

"Well we mustn't keep Lady Stark waiting for too long then." Baelish said, leading the way for Gendry to follow him on the route the boy had taken moments before. "How long have you know Lady Stark? If you don't mind my asking."

Gendry hesitated. No good ever came of a lord asking questions, he reminded himself. "Arya... Around a few months, it was just after her father had died..." He said, noticing how interested Baelish seemed in this topic. He guessed that the Master of Coin has been asked by someone to find out this sort of information.

"And you were with the Night's Watch?" Gendry made a sound of agreement, trying not to think on how honourable men had died to save them, how Yorren had protected them before they were taken to Harrenhall.

"You already know this story, Lord Baelish." Gendry said pointedly, his eyes glancing around the garden once more, scanning the people who he had seen before as they were joined by others of the same dress and style - no familiar face or even a stance he felt he could smile at.

"So I do." Baelish smiled, noticing the discomfort in boy and causing his leer to widen slightly. Gendry, had he been looking the Master of Coin in the eye, would have tried to leave then - or at least be stop the conversation where it was. But instead, he decided to continue.

"Why did you wish to speak with me, Lord Baelish?" Gendry kept a rather singular and board tone to his voice, hoping that the Lord before him would understand this and try to keep their conversation short. But he truly doubted that since he was only the Hand's 'ward' and a bastard at that - he was not a lordling and he was not a prince.

"I wanted to know where you want to be in this game" Baelish's words were crafted in such a way that any passerby would have frozen in their tracks more than the boy before him did. Because any passerby in that courtyard would understand the question and it's phrasing.

"Game?" Gendry paused slightly in his steps, his voice confused at the idea and metaphor the older man was saying.

"The game everyone in this court plays." Baelish smiled, raising his eyebrow slightly and grinning with a thinly lined grin of knowing. Gendry once again averted his eyes from the man's face, the muscles in his jaw moving slightly with annoyance as he tried to find the words to reply.

"I do not want to be playing it." The boy knew it sounded bitter, that it sounded almost childish when it came to the place he stood - but it was at least truthful, that he could admit.

"But which of the five kings would you want to see on the throne?" Gendry had started walking once more as he heard Baelish speak. He paused slightly, turning to face the Master of Coin on the balls of his heels.

"If you want to know my loyalty, Lord Baelish, then you truly do not look as hard as you think you do." Gendry spoke briskly, his words bitter and almost harsh - but yet emotionless, as if there was nothing else he could say, as if it was almost obvious what he was saying

"Her." Baelish smiled to himself as he said the word, confirming that the idea was obvious to everyone around. "You rely to much on a young girl." Baelish spoke bitterly out his words with a roll of the eye.

"The King is younger than I, and you rely on him." Gendry spoke pointedly, his eyes not glancing towards the man beside him as he continued to walk back towards the fountain, passed where the knights practised fighting and the septa's taught. He hoped that Baelish would leave him then, would not continue that conversation.

Gendry's point was made, but after a few long moments Baelish spoke once more to the boy. "I assume you know by now." His voice had dropped a tone and the conversation with it. Baelish now was not probing for information but was confirming it - and making sure, in that process, that the boy before him was understanding of everything.

"I know." Gendry, in that change, knew what Baelish meant. How secretive he had become about the subject revealed all to the blacksmith and he spoke true to the man. "And it does not matter to me."

"Does it not?" Baelish asked with a glint in his eyes, a smirk exaggerated once more to his lips and his hand tightened lighting on the bind of the golden leafed book.

"Not to me." Gendry spoke with a plain voice, emotion void in the words. He was fed up, the thought of the time continuing laden on his brain with annoyance and struggle. "I have other things to fear."

"You are smarter than you seem." Baelish spoke with almost sounded appreciative of the boy in his remark. His eyes scanning the ground before them as the young man's eyes snapped to the elder's face with almost pure shock, a misunderstanding or mishearing he hoped. The elder man smirked to himself.

The Baratheon bastard scanned the face of the once banner-less nobel man with a searching gaze - trying to be sure that what he had heard was what had come from the older man's mouth. When he was sure it was, a few moments later, he replied. "Most say that."

They walked in silence for a few moments, the time dragging through the trees that passed until Baelish found it sufficiently awkward. "Why does your Lord Lannister want you and her here?" He asked the boy, pausing slightly in his steps so that the boy stopped beside him and turning to face him with another seeking gaze.

"I'm sure you know better than I do." Gendry replied bitterly, his feet pausing for less than a second to look the man in the eyes before continuing his path back to the fountain.

Baelish strode to catch up with the blacksmith, the man's strides matching the younger's with a constant speed. As the fountain came into sight, he once again posed another question to the boy. "How is Lady Arya faring?"

"She is well," Gendry said quickly, only glancing towards the elder man when he did not hear a reply. When he saw a scathing look coming from the man, he quickly tacked on the words that followed. "well better than she was."

"You stayed by her side throughout?" Baelish smiled to himself at this admission, knowing that it took something in the boy to say those words with such honesty.

"She is the reason I am alive, Lord Baelish." Gendry stopped and looked directly at the man beside him, the fountain framing the man in the background - as if it was taunting him. "I cannot leave her behind." He admitted and was almost surprised by the fact the man had not yet smirked to his admission. "I'm sure you can understand this."

"I understand," Baelish said, dusting off his clothing and brushing his fingers through his beard. "I understand perfectly." He turned, slowly and moved in a sweeping motion away. A smile glinting on the man's face as Gendry was left on the fountain's edge to ponder the words.

* * *

When Baelish finally left his company, Gendry sighed loudly, enough for the Tyrell girls beside him to burst out into a fit of giggles. Both his eyebrows raised at them causing then to giggle more.

Gendry decided to continue walking then, incredibly confused by how the young women were acting. He continued his walk, sitting back down at the fountain and starting hesitantly at the doorway to their rooms.

He did not notice the well dressed silks of Lord Varys approach in the sun glazed air. The Lords golden and floral silk clothing shimmered in the light - but not enough for the young boy to notice him.

"You hesitate." Varys smiled slightly, bowing his head towards the boy and trying to keep eye contact with him. His hands were still folded in the bellows of his sleeves but the boy had no care for how the man stood.

"Lord Varys" Gendry spoke clearly, but with very little emotion about him. He was as bothered by the man's presence as he was bothered about the sway of trees or the sing of birds. What Gendry was bothered about was the man's purpose, because he was quickly realising that everyone in that courtyard had some purpose for him to for fill and no one of them sounded promising. He then quickly remembered his manners and went to stand.

"Don't stand boy, let me join you." Shocked by Lord Varys' response, Gendry sat down abruptly and allowed the man to sit down beside him in movements that seemed as if he was larger than the figure the man had. "You have already marched around the gardens once more by Lord Baelish - I'm sure you would like the rest." Varys laughed lightly at what he was saying and the look the boy cast him.

"How did you-" Gendry was initially outraged at the idea, but quickly understood from the look Varys gave him and what he had being told about the "ah."

"How are you finding the Red Keep?" Varys asked the boy, seeming actually interested in the subject more than Baelish had - but still he was cautious.

"Grand." The typical answer spat out from Gendry's lips, his eyes slowly glancing towards where the door to the tower was still watched over by Sansa's gossips who probably would want to know what the Stark sisters were discussing.

"Boy. I am not Lord Baelish." Varys hoped that his words got across to the boy, hoping that this would somehow cause the boy to be more open with him - but he doubted that would happen heavily

"But you know everyone's secrets." Gendry stated, turning to look the man in the eye with his statement. Varys seemed to lean back slightly at this, as if seeing a ghost of his past or hearing something that caused him great fear - Gendry assumed it was the first.

"And everyone at court knows yours, you have nothing to fear from me." Varys stated. He was better at crafting his words than Baelish was, Gendry admitted in his head - noticing how if it was not for the constant tellings of trust no-one he may have trusted Varys.

"And everyone at court tells me to fear you, mi'lord" Gendry stated the words as if they were more for his own benefit rather than for Varys to hear. The words were reminding the young blacksmith that this was not a time to trust any of them.

"My little birds tell me that, but then you haven't fled." Varys spoke as if the words were almost a throw away comment, but with the weight they held it was more like trying to throw away an iron statue.

Gendry froze in his seat, trying to find the right words to reply with the right weight. "I have stood in a camp full of people who would kill me if they knew my name." He kept his voice low, not really wanting those around him to hear. He knew Varys probably already knew what he was speaking about, probably having already heard it from his 'little birds' - but, once more, Gendry was selling these words to himself. "And I armed them." The words turned bitter in his mouth, causing him to turn back to face the bald man and look him directly in the eye before continuing. "You are not someone I should fear."

"I've heard many people say that you are cleverer than you seem." Varys said to the boy, a slight grin reaching his lips as he scanned over the look he saw cast from the boy.

"I've heard the same." Gendry spoke, the bitter tone of before lingering on the words from the sentences he had spoken before. He allowed it to, because he did not want to find himself trusting anyone in the court - he had being warned enough from the few times he had spoken with Arya, or even Tywin, about King's Landing.

"I'm sure, by now, you know the truth about your apprenticeship," Varys seemed to ask, pausing for a moment when he saw the rather confused face on the young man's face. "Or at least the rumours that swim in the air of court."

"No." Gendry said, an eye brow raising slightly but his words not doing the same, his words keeping a constant tone throughout the word, and the words that followed. "I have not heard."

"No, you haven't." Varys agreed, as if he was confirming the point in his own mind or checking it off a list that no one could see. "But then you haven't left your lady's bedside." He was not asking Gendry this, he was stating it as if it was common knowledge and leaving him with no room to disagree.

"Arya is not m'lady." Gendry disputed, spluttering slightly to quickly say words that he knew Arya would agree with. For he knew she hated the idea of belonging to someone and being a lady in equal measure.

"Isn't she?" Varys asked, a light tone in his voice.

The younger paused for a moment before replying. "She doesn't like to be called a Lady." He spoke quicker than it had taken for him to find the words to say.

"Why did you leave her side today?" Varys asked the boy, something in his voice seeming to Gendry like he already knew why he had left Arya's side.

"She needed time alone with her sister." Gendry spoke, his voice rigid and strong with a frame he was building around the words to be sure he was prepared for whatever followed in the questioning.

"So you decided to leave the tower, alone?" Varys asked with simple glances to either side. His eyes cast past the boy as if he was observing the others around them, or a the person behind them.

"I needed air." Gendry answered sharply, a bitter snark sat against his work as it cut the conversation to a close as the building fury cauterised any attempts to continue with it.

"There is a forge here, if you ever want to see it." Varys stated to the boy, allowing the boy's to look on at him in shock and wonder at why the older man was telling him this. But then he realised that he shouldn't really seem too shocked, because this was a castle and there would always be a forge in a castle.

"I would, at some point." He paused, noticing that he sounded a little too excited but suddenly not caring. Remembering what he had being taught that day and all those times back on the Street of Silver, he quickly spoke up again - adding "Lord Varys" to his sentence.

"I'm glad to hear that." Varys smiled to himself, a sight that seemed odd to the blacksmith - making him feel rather suspicious about the smile. "I will not keep you, I am needed elsewhere and you will need to get back to your lady."

"Thank you, Lord Varys." Gendry said as the man turned slightly away from him in sweeping movements. "Good Day."

"Good Day, Gendry." The man paused slightly, bowing his head to the boy and making sure to pronounce his name fully. Gendry decided as he watched the man walk away that he would not trust sweeping movements, because every man in Kings Landing seemed to have them.

* * *

Gendry walked quickly away from the fountain, his shoulders hunched as he moved to the nearest wall and pushed his shoulders against the stone walls to cool his back and the tension there. He shut his eyes for a moment, rubbing the muscles there to stop the build up there. He then pursed his lips, opened his eyes wide and began to walk back towards his rooms - hoping that the Stark sisters were caught up enough for him to join them.

However as he turned the corner he accidentally barged into the small form of one of the ladies, as he murmured and stuttered out his apologies he heard a soft voice say her own. "Oh I'm sorry," He looked up at the face of the young queen to be and stumbled over more apologies - but his voice quickly stopped in his throat as she looked as if she was about to speak once more. "Gendry, isn't it?"

"Lady Margery." Gendry nodded lightly, his throat sticky and trapping the words he had tried to say and stopping whatever thought of objection he'd had before they could be uttered.

"How long have you being in court Lord Gendry?" The Tyrell girl asked with hands folded at her waist, her head cocked lightly to one side as she said her words, as if she was some pristine doll with a slight rock on the pivot of it's head.

"I am no Lord, m'lady." Gendry stated, folding his hands before his chest with a slight glance towards his hands. He folded his fingers over the callous of his palms, his eyes glancing over the bumps in the soft dip in the palms. "I'm just a blacksmith's apprentice." He smiled to himself, it was a novel idea he just wanted to return to.

"Well it is a pleasure to meet you, anyway - Gendry." Margaery spoke with a smile, pausing to look over the boy before she said his name.

"I apologise m'lady, I need to return to Lady Arya." Gendry bowed his head slightly, preparing to leave once again when her voice cut through to him.

"Then let me walk with you, Gendry." She said with a smile, offering her his arm which he politely refused with a slight movement of his hand. He knew from how men had acted around women when they came into the forge to never take a women's arm or they see it as some romantic gesture. He did not want to end up on his 'brother's' bad side even more. "I'm going towards that area anyway." At the sight of the fountain and water pitcher, Gendry ducked towards it and attempted to elegantly pour water into a goblet - attempted as when he did so the water sloshed lightly over the rim of the goblet and pooled down the sides. He offered the goblet to Lady Margaery in an attempt to still seem slightly gentleman-like but she politely declined, allowing him to take a sip before asking speaking once more to him. "You never answered my question."

"Your question?" Gendry raised an eyebrow before taking a long sip from the water and savouring the feeling of it trickling down his throat. He had being outside in the late summer - early autumn - air for too long and it was soon effecting him.

"How long have you being at court?" Margaery smiled sweetly with her question hanging in the air. Gendry glanced up at her through the rim of his water goblet, placing it down on the wood beside her before responding.

"Since just before the battle, m'lady" He replied briskly, walking once more towards where the pathway that lead towards the rooms he shared with Arya.

"Then we are both new." Margaery continued to smile as she walked beside the blacksmith, her hands swinging lightly at her sides in an almost childlike manner - playful. Gendry wasn't quite sure it was intentional but he didn't really want to question the actions of the queen-to-be.

"I guess, m'lady." Gendry spoke with his eyes cast towards the ground, he hadn't really cared about what happened in the court - so he hadn't really cared that he was new there. He cared more that he  **was**  there.

"How is Lady Arya?" The woman seemed to have noticed his lingering gazes and changed the subject. Her smile seeming quite knowing when he glanced up suddenly to see her almost comforting eyes - sympathy setting in them. "I heard she wasn't so well."

"She is doing better. Maester Frenken said she will be able to wander the gardens soon." Gendry could feel the words he was fabricating seem bitter and almost fuzzy in his mouth - as if they were more than the lie he was repeating to every member of court who asked.

"Lady Margery, Gendry." The sound of the new voice joining the conversation made Gendry jump slightly with surprise - in astonishment that he hadn't heard someone else approach. He glanced around before laying his eyes on the youngest Lannister and feeling glad for it.

"Lord Tyrion." Margaery's smile continued to be relayed to the imp. The smile giving little away of what the young woman was thinking - Gendry was sure that she would fit in nicely at the court and not stick out like sore thumbs as Arya and he seemed to.

"I was wondering if I could steal this boy away from you for a moment, my lady?" Tyrion asked, bowing slightly to the young woman as he spoke to show his respect to her.

"Of course, my lord." She continued to smile and turned sharply towards the younger of the two men. "Goodbye Gendry." The boy did not stare after the woman as she left, he kept his head bowed and eyes averted.

After neither of the men had moved or said a word to the other, Gendry finally spoke up. "Lord Tyrion?" He looked down at the man with more confusion and questioning than was posed in his question.

"You looked in need of help, m'boy." Tyrion explained, smiling crookedly up at the boy. His eyes scarred by age and his scarless face almost glad to see the boy's own features - as if he knew something the boy didn't.

"Thank you m'lord." Gendry said, almost gratefully. With honesty he was glad that the smaller man had decided to join him, as he had felt quite awkward and out-of-place in the company of Lady Tyrell, especially with the fact his 'brother' was engaged to her.

The imp smiled slightly at the younger man's thanks and continued his well-chosen works."Go on, get back to your lady - I'm sure Lady Sansa wouldn't mind you joining your friend now." He said with a small smile at the look that light up the boy's eyes - as if it was something he had being hoping to hear the entire time the boy had being out of his rooms

In truth, it was.

"Thank you m'lord." The boy thanked the smaller - in height - man with words that seemed so jumbled as they touched his lips that he wasn't sure what he had said. But the man before him smiled and nodded, understanding and allowing the boy leave.

Which Gendry took quickly in hurried steps towards the slab of wood before a sandstone hole into his rooms. Dust coughed up into the air as his feet hit down against the heavy slabs on the floor. He dodged the groups of men and women he saw stroll pass - the leather of his well-worn boots hardening under each slam. The mud that once caked his shoes breaking off and facing the cold air on the stone. Every thing in air seemed to be soaked with pain and lies, including each slam of the young boys feet to the ground. He didn't speak or mutter any quick apology to anyone who had to move aside for him to storm past.

That was until he turned one corner at a speed faster than he had intended, slipping slightly as he had overestimated the speed he had to go and had underestimated the smoothness of the rock. He stumbled and caught his feet but not before hearing an annoyed cough come from the two beside him who's conversation he had interrupted.

He turned at the sound, his gaze moving slower over the two highborns than he had intended to. Within a few seconds of glancing over them he soon realised who he had disrupted - the Queen Regent and Lord Baelish and apologised profusely. "I'm sorry, your grace, m'lord." Gendry stumbled on his words quickly, casting his eyes to the ground with flushed cheeks of embarrassment as he felt their gazes scanning his form.

"It's okay, boy." Cersei's voice seemed overly sweetened to the younger boy. "Where are you running so fast to?"

"I need to get back to my rooms, your grace." Gendry kept his eyes down as he answered the woman's question, honesty keeping his words in check as he thought of what could happen if he was found lying to the woman before him. Especially after what had happened during the Battle of Blackwater Bay.

"And you needed to run to do this?" Cersei's voice sharpened in her question, becoming as sharp as the swords he once created or the Needle Arya carried.

"I have being gone for a rather long while, your grace." He explained quickly, trying to keep his eyes down to the sandstone floor as much as possible. He was not her equal, he was at minimum a nobody and at most a traitor and a royal bastard. He needed to survive and casting his eyes down worked for him whenever a noble asked him name, he hoped that the woman before him would do the same - because then she might follow the same fate as those before and that would please Arya.

"How is your Lady Arya?" The Queen regent asked with a thin smile and folded hands. Her eyes scanning the boys reaction with interest that seemed piqued by the entire situation.

"Arya is much better, thank you your grace." The boy nodded, smiling lightly and being sure to remember all of his courtesies in what he was saying.

"Better? I thought that she had being unwell for quite some time." Cersei questioned, seeming interested in what he was saying but Gendry knew not everything felt right. He didn't know very well how these fancy people acted - he knew who he had been told to trust - but he did know how people acted, on the docks and in the forge, so he knew well enough.

"I was told by Maester Frenken that she should be able to wander the gardens soon, your grace" Lord Baelish answered for the boy, surprise widening in the boys eyes as he quickly realised the truth of the matters.

"How soon?" The queen asked, not facing her question to the Baratheon bastard but the Master of Coin beside her.

"I'm not sure." Baelish replied, trailing off slightly in his words and allowing them to patter by with no remorse.

"About a week, your grace." Gendry cut in, allowing the glares of the two highborns before him to not phase him in the slightest.

"A week? That seems like such a long time to be bedridden." Cersei widened her eyes slightly, playing along with whatever she thought to be crafting to the young man.

"She is getting rather fed up, but then she is spending time with her family." Gendry explained, not caring if the two before him actually wanted to hear his words. "So I was leaving her be, your grace." His eyes had cast slightly to the side and in sudden notice he flashed his eyes back to the Queen Regent with his 'your grace'.

"You care for her." Cersei noted to herself, staring off for a moment's pass.

"Yes I do. Good day, your grace. M'lord." Gendry hoped not to sound too brisk with the two before him as he ducked away. Allowing the dust to cough up once more below his feet.

* * *

Returning to the wooden slab that covered the doorframe into their rooms was something that Gendry had never been happier to see in most of his life time. There was something about that simple subtle wood that opened up to him and made him feel notably better about whatever had happened before. Well it was the wood, he thought, or the laughter.

Flowing through the wood with open glee and interest was a sound Gendry was confused to be hearing, laughter. And at that girlish laughter. It was something unexpected - and intriguing. Sounds like summer birds on the winter wind or something just as unusual. More so because Gendry knew who was inside the rooms.

He walked in, unannounced and passed the two guards stationed towards where the two ladies sat. "Mi'ladies, I am surprised for you to be sounding so happy." Gendry almost felt a smile tug at his lips as he entered the confines of the shared room.

"Gendry!" Arya seemed to exclaim, a yellow cake in her hands as he glanced on at her wide eyed and confused.

"One of the squires bought Lemoncakes, would you like one Gendry?" Sansa explained with much more grace than her sister had shown.

"Lemoncakes?" Gendry asked, his eyes glancing over the yellow substance with an odd confusion.

"Yes!" Arya pulled a small amount off of her cake and pushed it in Gendry's direction. "here"

Gendry took the cake and ate it, joyful for the food in his mouth. He savoured the taste but the sustenance was more availed. "what else were you talking about to make you all so happy?" He then asked, a smile laced proudly on his lips knowing that he had 'caused' these smiled in the two young women.

"We were talking about Winterfell!" This time it was Sansa's turn to exclaim. A joy laced smile sat truly on her lips with memories of joy sitting on her mind. "And of when Arya used to get all of the squires to fight with her even though they were all scared of hurting her."

If only it could have stayed that way, a voice told the blacksmith in his mind. He knew once that it was once truly like that for him as well - and now the young lady couldn't even try to fight until her wound healed up. It was something that was difficult for her, he knew that. But it was something else to her, it was like loosing a comfort blanket that she was only piecing together with the memories she had - fed on by Sansa and Gendry.

And in that smile Gendry saw that. And in that smile he knew it wouldn't last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N2
> 
> So I blame three things for some of the imagery and styling in this:
> 
> One: Epic tiredness
> 
> Two: Moderately bad timing
> 
> Three: Of Mice and Men/An Inspector Calls studying.
> 
> Also the scenes with Gendry are his first impressions of the characters he's meeting - and most of all are his views or set up for later plot points because I've finally sorted the plot out completely... I think... I hope...


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN I'm sorry this has taken so long, it wasn't my intention. A few things for housekeeping. I'm aiming to have Chapter 10 done soon enough and it should be on its way quicker than this one. For the thing about Karstark, I'm changing it up with his sons - so only his middle son died at the Battle of the Whispering Wood.

Time seemed to pass with ease. Moments began to feel like seconds rather than hours, the sun seemed to set at the right time and not rise to early or too late. Nothing seemed to linger or waste away, it just seemed to pass with ease over the city - almost forgetful of the war wrecking havoc and wasting away towns only a few days rides away.

The day the squire came was unlike any other for Gendry and Arya, both of whom were sat at their table when he knocked at the door. Arya had finally got her own handmaiden, some girl by the name of Jeyne sent by Lord Tywin himself and a loyal banner man of the Lannisters, and so she was dressed quite early on that day. She had somehow managed to get the girl to agree to allowing her to wear a tunic and breaches that were surprisingly in Stark colours. She assumed they were from her own things but they were still fitting her so she was not shocked when Gendry smiled at the sight of her and murmured in her ear that he'd managed to get them for her. She asked how and he had told her that her sister had ordered them through Shae.

Gendry, like most days, was reading through his book on the history of house Baratheon. Dressed once again in blacks and darkened yellows, they older boy was longing for the Maester to give him something new to read, or for Lord Varys to tell him where the forge is - because he didn't favour asking any of the other Lords and Ladies in the court, having no clue who any of them were.

Both of them had looked up when he entered the room, both wide eyes when the blonde haired young squire walked through the doorway - cocking his head slightly to the side as he observed the duo. "Lord Tywin requests your presence." He spoke finally, folding his hands behind his back to press out his chest in pride. Arya frowned slightly and rolled her eyes towards Gendry. Both of them stood and walked towards the doorway when the squire placed his arm out towards Gendry's chest - stopping him in his tracks and causing the boy to look at the squire with confusion. "Not you. Just Lady Arya."

"Where ever she goes, I go." Gendry stated and brushed past the squire, walking into step behind Arya as the squire jogged slightly to catch up to where the Baratheon bastard and the Stark girl were stood. "I will wait outside wherever it is whilst she is there, but I will not leave her to walk here alone, with you." Gendry growled out to the squire, looking him over as he managed to get the boy's ear for a moment.

The Baratheon boy noticed the look of confusion at the reasoning of his actions, but in that moment he could not be bothered. He would wait for the squire to ask a question before he told him why. Gendry allowed his gaze to wander towards Arya when he began to wait, noticing her sword at her hip and smiling to himself. He hoped that one day he would be allowed to work on the sword, he though - noticing and appreciating the beautiful craftsmanship at her hip. "Why?" The squire finally asked, Arya seeming oblivious to the fact that the conversation was taking place.

Gendry waited until they had reached the doorway before he spoke up again, not quite feeling ready to answer the squire's question. The guard there demanded that he stayed outside of the room and not enter. He shrugged and Arya looked at him with confusion and what seemed to be able to be mistaken for worry, if he didn't know her as he did he would have mistaken it for worry. "I'll be fine, Arry."

When Arya had entered the room the squire turned back to the Baratheon with a confused gaze. "Why are you her bodyguard?" He reiterated his question, his eyes too young to notice the strength of the glares that were cast at the bullheaded boy before him.

"Someone has already tried to kill her." Gendry said, noticing how Arya was lingering in the doorway before them. Not quite shutting the door yet and seeming to be listening to what Gendry was saying to the squire. "No doubt they will try again."

In that moment Arya walked into the room and the door shut behind her, shutting her in the room with the men that sat before her. Her eyes were met with the sight of a long table full with different Lannister loyalists - Baelish sitting to the right of Tywin, Varys beside him and Tyrion a whole seat space between himself and Varys. Opposite Varys was Ser Kevan - Arya remembered him from Harrenhal - and beside him were a few more Lannister knights.

"Sit down, Arya." Tywin spoke as she entered, a chair sitting empty and waiting at the far end of the table - waiting for her to sit down before the men. She stood there for a few moments, staring at the seat as if there was something wrong with it before hesitantly looking at the men before her and sitting down promptly afterwards.

When none of them spoke, she stared at each one of them in turn - noticing the glares and concentrating, scrutinising gazes of each man. She was the one to impatiently break this silence. "Why am I here?" Her voice would have cracked under the pressure of the eyes if she was anyone else, but she was a Stark of Winterfell - one of the lone wolves in the capital.

"To answer our questions, girl." One of the knighted men beside Ser Kevan snarled out to the young girl - as if it was an obvious thing that was taking place, as if everyone knew, as if she should have already known.

A new cup-bearer brought her a goblet filled with water and she pushed it away from her slightly. "Why were you at Harrenhal, Lady Stark?" Baelish phrased his words with an elegance that cut through the silence that was thickening in the air around them.

"Because I was going home." Arya stated, her voice almost as monotone as when she used to speak with Tywin, before he recognised her. The Lannister Lord raised his eyebrow at this and took a drink from his wine. Wine not water. Arya was the only one with water, she noticed. She soon realised that the lingering silence was because they wanted to know more, she didn't know why - she'd already told them the tale many times before. "Because the Night's Watchman taking me home was killed by Lannister men after Gendry and we were taken to Harrenhal afterwards."

She stared straight forewords into the eyes of Tywin Lannister. She knew he already knew all of this, she knew he knew that she resented him for it all. She didn't want to know why she had to repeat it all but she just wanted it to be all over with. "Where's your sword, Arya?" Tywin asked, allowing the men to his left to seem shocked and the two prying men to his right to smile knowingly. He did not pay attention to Tyrion's reaction but he assumed his 'son's' reaction to be somewhat of a mix between the two. In fact Tyrion's reaction was one of amusement, for he already knew about the sword from Jon.

"Here." She motioned to her hip before resting her hand on the hilt of the blade, protecting it as if they would take it off her if she moved her hand. It mattered to her, but to most who sat there, it meant nothing - she had the blade, yes, but they had stronger, thicker, heavier swords that could take her out in one strong blow. If needed. But they doubted it would be needed, she was just a young girl after all.

"Who trained you?" The knight in the middle of Ser Kevan and Ser Amory Lorch spoke up, glaring over the table at the girl as if she was a bigger threat than the goblet of water that sat before her.

"Syrio Forel." Arya spoke his name with pride. "First Sword to the Sealord of Braavos."

"Braavosi." The knight furthest away from Lord Tywin snarled under his breath and Arya rolled her eyes in annoyance at the man's hate. She thought of how the room seemed to be built on snide comments and hateful words or glances.

"And who gave you the sword?" Tywin was the one to ask the question, actually seeming interested in the fact that she had a sword, rather than the ability she may or may not have had with it.

"My brother." She answered matter-of-factly, stating it with the same tone that they had spoken with to her when she entered.

"Do Starks have a habit of giving their younger siblings swords?" The knight in the centre of the three knights asked Arya, smirking and laughing slightly at the fact that she had being given a sword - something none of them expected.

"No, they give them needles." Arya shrugged off his question with a pushing tone, brushing it away and remembering what she had told Jon when she had being given the blade. How she'd told him that it would be her needle. Back when they were all together, back when they were at home in Winterfell. Before they all left home and all of this had happened. It was something she'd never lingered on, something she'd never thought of for a very long while.

"Why did the 'King in the North'," Amory Lorch laughed slightly before continuing, the knight beside him joining in. "give you this sword?"

"He didn't" The young girl spoke with a strong tone to her voice, stopping any words that the man may have had to say about her brother and leaving them with a confused gaze between them.

"Jon Snow, Ned Stark's bastard had it made for her." Tyrion suddenly spoke up, understanding and knowing from when Jon Snow had told him himself.

"How many men does your brother have?" This distraction was getting a little irritating to the Lannister knight and Ser Kevan Lannister was getting fed up of the useless information he was receiving from the young girl - not blaming her because he realised she would hardly know anything of these things at her age or in the circumstances they were in.

She paused, silent and biting her lips before muttering out her words. "I do not know." She sighed and glanced down at the water before her. She would not drink it, she was not thirsty - but it allowed her to stare back at the empty look she was casting down at the liquid with the same tone.

"How many houses are sworn to House Stark?"

"Around the entire north…" She spoke hesitantly, knowing that it would not help them. She was not sure whether that was a good thing, since she had seen the Lannister Lord do worse to people higher than her. But then, she was saving her brother with every lie she told. "I do not know."

"What do you know?" The knight that Arya did not know snarled out with another glare. He was not impressed with the very small amount of information coming from the young girl, and yet no one else seemed to care as much as he did.

"I know how to sew." Arya said, staring down at her hip where the hilt of her sword rested comfortably against the bone and stroked her hand over the polished metal with the dint of her palm. "With special kinds of needles." The eyes of those who knew widened slightly at what seemed to be a veiled threat to them.

Baelish, however, chuckled slightly to himself before his voice and body turned serious once more. "Your mother travelled the country to meet with Renly Baratheon…"

Arya snarled and cut off the Master of Coin. "I never saw her." She narrowed her eyes at him and could just about see Tyrion smirk into his goblet as he took a drink. Her sharpness was not missed by those in the room, nor was her anger at the subject.

"Your friend, Lady Arya?" Lord Varys spoke up for the first time since Lady Arya had entered. She turned directly to him, looking the Master of Whispers in the eyes as he spoke - something that did not go unnoticed by those around. "He's loyal to you, is he not?"

"I think so." She glanced down at the table as she commented what she said. Remembering the words that Sansa had told her when they were sat alone in her room, long before Gendry had arrived and long after they had talked about returning home - where she told her simply, to not trust anyone. "What are you wanting to know, Lord Varys?" It was a fact that she was planning to keep to, knowing that her father's honesty and trust was something that got him killed - she had being told that enough by the people in the room.

Varys smiled to himself slightly. "Your blacksmith-"

The Master of Whispers was cut of rudely by someone who no longer cared for the direction the conversation was leaning in. "You support your brother, do you not?" The knight Arya did not know once again spoke - and the Stark girl was beginning to wish that he wouldn't ever.

"Family. Duty. Honor." She spoke, her voice allowing her thoughts to confirm itself in her mind - using the words of her mother's family to answer a question she did not want to. Because there was something in her answer that would have her killed if she answered truthfully. "Winter is coming."

"Here me roar." Tyrion said sarcastically as he felt another silence grown over the room. "Why are we stating house words now, Lady Arya?" The imp's question did not go unnoticed by the young girl, who looked at him straight in the eye as she replied.

"Family." She paused, emphasising the word as if it was a sudden fact to the men before her the order in which the Tully words were spoken. Making sure that they understood that she was smart enough to never say the truth. "Duty. Honor." Tyrion smiled to himself at this, noticing that although he was looking towards the Stark girl the knights of his father and his father seemed irritated by the fact she was speaking in riddles.

"Your brother knows you are here, Lady Arya." Lord Baelish spoke in the tone he always seemed to adopt. His tone seeming so clean-cut as he spoke over the others in the room and the silences that lingered there. "What do you expect him to do?"

"He will be the Young Wolf and continue." She remembered the rumours she had being told by the people north of where they sat. The stories of her brother and Greywind. The stories that she had wished to have heard first hand from her mother and brother. "Because he and my mother believed me to be here all along."

"Young wolf" Lorch scoffed to himself, laughing out his reply with a cynical tone. "What else do you call your brother?"

"What does that matter?" Arya's eyes narrowed towards the Lannister knight, her emotions in less check then what they were back at Harrenhall.

"Why did your brother give you the sword, Lady Arya?" Tyrion, noticing the hate rolling off of the young girl, quickly tried to distract her with another question that seemed tedious to the others in the room.

"Because I am no lady."

"So you know how your brothers fight?" Lord Baelish's question seemed to go ignored by almost all of the people in the room, but still the young girl being questioned responded clearly.

"Robb always leaves his left side open, it was how Jon was always able to defeat him when they practised." Arya felt herself reminisce on the facts she could remember in that moment. Noticing that she had revealed something so obvious to her but not to the men before her - she pushed the thought aside and corrected her words. "But he has a council of my father's banner men. He will not be as stupid to do it in battle."

"He is arrogant and green enough." Tywin snarled out, ensuring that the young girl across the table heard the words he was speaking. Hoping that his obvious dislike for the boy would keep her in line, for she knew full well what happened to those he disliked.

"I wouldn't know." The girl before the men spoke emotionlessly, her words echoing over the room with meaning enough to annoy most of the men in the room - those men who expected her to know more than she did.

"What do you know?" Irritated by the small amount of information the girl had given them, the Lannister knight in both name and sworn allegiance asked her his question.

"I know how to make a paste you can eat out of acorns." At this, the eyes of some of the men widened - specifically those to the right of Lord Tywin who all had noticed before the hollow of her cheeks when she first arrived to King's Landing. Her mentioning of the fact she had made this paste caused Tyrion and Baelish to glance towards Tywin in shock - surprised that she had managed to get to this state to begin with.

"Why would you need that?" Another voice stopped the shocked thoughts of the men in the room in their tracks. A rather annoying voice to Arya, and one she knew she already hated having to get used to again - Joffery's. Arya did not turn to face him, nor did she acknowledge that he was there.

"Your grace." Lord Tywin spoke up as many of the others in the room acknowledged the King and the guard following him in the room.

"Why is the wolf bitch being questioned?" Joffery's voice irritated at Arya's ears, her teeth grinding as she prepared to splutter out a response to the boy king - her eyes narrowing at the shadow flowing over her head and onto the table before her.

"Because she may know something, your grace" The knight closest to her, Ser Lorch spoke up. Narrowing his own eyes at her in a gesture that may have looked irritated or angered to the boy king but actually seemed warning to the young girl.

Joffery laughed for a few seconds, no one else finding what was being said someway humorous. "Tell me, wolf bitch, does your brother fuck his wolf as well as his wife?" His question was followed by the three small council members to Lord Tywin's right turning sharply with worried gazes to look at the girl. Lord Tywin looked plain faced at the boy, his irritation not as obvious as that of the young girl's - who's shoulders shook slightly and who's hands turned white in tight fists.

"I wouldn't know, I have not met my good sister." She turned to face the King in her chair, her voice seemed sketchy to the room - seeming odd and fearful. "Do you fuck your sister as well or are we playing off rumours today?" She smirked and stood, dusting off her breeches and turning her attention to the man at the end of the table. He looked at her with the same raised eyebrow he always had. "May I leave, Lord Hand?"

"Go on." Tywin's voice showed that he honestly no longer cared around the young girl, she had answered all the questions he had needed her to and he was fine with that - after all, it didn't matter to him any more information. Sure, what she had said should have angered himself as well - but it did not. It was only a childish joke that could be reprimanded by him later - when they were not surrounded by knights and lords who would disagree with his actions.

"No." Joffery spoke suddenly, stopping the young girl who would have being leaving in her tracks. "She needs to be punished." He demanded, the men of the room saying nothing as the girl stood before them. "She cannot say these things to me."

At this, the man to his left smiled. His grin widening as the young girl froze up as he walked towards her. He took the girl's face into his left hand had thrown a punishing slap towards her with his right.

She recoiled with the force, causing her to grab the table before her and pull herself upright. She then pushed herself forewords in retaliation, pulling out her sword and pushing the sword towards the mans face. She surveyed his every move, glancing over his face until she recognised who he was.

Seeing this, she smiled. "You practised that slap on my sister, Ser Meryn?" She asked, laughing slightly as his gloved hand slowly pushed aside the girl's sword. He once again grabbed her face with his left hand.

At this, Tywin spoke up. "Arya." His voice seeming sharp and irritated - as if he was talking to a small child with desperate annoyance, as if he had forgot that the girl was in fact a child. "Leave."

"Lord Tywin." The voice of the 'knight' before them cut through the air, his irritation equally as present as in the girl - who glared openly at those before her, her hand grasping the sword as if she was prepared to cut the throat of the man. Her eyes fixed on the open areas of skin not covered by armour and her fingers clenching and unclenching on the hilt of the sword.

Tyrion Lannister knew that some of the men in the room knew that Ser Meryn was a man of no honour. But the fact the young king was laughing irritated him more. Arya Stark was a young girl who had just being slapped by a man sworn to protect, he knew that to send her away would not help a thing in their cause. "Father, you can't seriously be-"

He was cut off sharply by the knight and lord he called Uncle. "Tyrion, take Lady Stark back to wherever they left her friend." Ser Kevan Lannister was not impressed by the display of power by the boy king, he was less impressed by his brother's show of power with the young girl. But he did not want to cause issue where the girl was concerned with his youngest nephew - so he knew sending him away would benefit them all easily.

"Come along, Lady Arya." Tyrion spoke. "I'm sure you would want to hear a little about your brother Jon as we walk to find your friend."

* * *

The heat beat against the walls and the bull-headed boy as he sat on one of the many benches around the courtyard, glad to actually be alone - but at the same time worrying. He didn't want to know what they were asking Arya - but yet that was all he wanted to know.

A shadow passed over his face and stood before him, smirking. The boy looked up at the man and smiled at the sight of who it was. "Hello again boy."

"Hello Ser Bronn." Gendry was actually glad to see the ex-sell sword, because the man did not speak like the others - nor was he as untrustworthy as those he could smell from a mile away with their floral breaths.

"I'm never going to get fed up of hearing that!" Bronn laughed aloud and filled the small area before the wall, a smile glinting over his lips as he thought of the fact he was now a 'ser'.

Gendry raised his eyebrow at him, looking up at the knight with a keen interest of wanting to know what he was talking about."Ser?"

"Doesn't matter, m'boy." Bronn sat down beside Gendry on the bench and leaned forward on his knees to mirror how the younger man was sittting. "Your lady wolf in there with 'em then?"

"Yeah." The boy sighed. "Lord Tywin wanned to speak wi her." Gendry felt his voice and clarity of words drop as he spoke with the plain spoken knight - it was something that he was almost glad to hear happening.

Bronn had also noticed this, and laughed quietly to himself. Gendry quickly joined in. "Sounds like you're really getting used to this life" He smirked towards the boy, leaning back on the bench so that his head rested against the wall and his hands pillowing his head for him.

"Not really, ser." Gendry frowned at the floor.

"Stop calling me ser now boy, 've got me kicks out o' it now." Bronn laughed slightly, watching the looks of confusion that swam over the boy's face with slow ease.

"Okay... Bronn." He hesitated, the sellsword noted.

"Well done, lad." He jibed, leaning back a slight bit more so that his head rested against his hands more, the bite of stone growling at his worn knuckles."So your lady is a wolf - and there's lions and flowers around 'ere as well. What are you?" He glanced around the hall to make the point he was saying.

"'m a nobody." The younger stared down at his feet, slamming his feet a few times on the stone to cough up some dust. "But I did like to think I was a bull." He smiled at the dust he made, imagining how it could have looked under the hooves of some horse at tourney or on the road to some war. Now he was never going to be in some tourney or some war, because no tourneys would take place and too many wars were. "Made ma self a bulls 'elmet as well."

"Yer a blacksmith, right?" Gendry nodded, but opened his mouth to correct the man, turning his head to face the man. "Armorer or whatever those gits on the Street of Silver like to call em sleves"

"Hey I apprenticed on that street!" Gendry protested, narrowing his eyes slightly at the sellsword with annoyance at the idea of someone disrespecting the life he had led for most of his life.

"Then you know gittishness first hand." Bronn laughed, and suddenly Gendry's features softened and a smile burst onto his lips. Those walking past the duo stopped with shock and turned to face the duo. Confusion at the odd sight passed over their faces.

Gendry stopped himself from laughing abruptly and calmed his voice - hushing his tone. "No more fancy than this lot ere."

"True you are there boy." Bronn clapped him on the shoulder. "What shop were you apprenticing in?"

"Toboh Mott's." Gendry said the name with pride.

"Ah the most expensive one as well." Bronn leaned forwards and laughed once more.

"Cause he's three times more skilled than anyone else there." Gendry snapped out, his fury building once more. It was how he had lived, the same as how Arya would never allow anyone to disrespect her choice to sword fight, he would never allow anyone to disrespect his apprenticeship. "He's the only one on that street that knows how to work Valyerian Steel."

"And a sales man." Bronn chuckled to his self before his features dropped, becoming serious and the sight was almost odd on the sellsword's face. "If only you weren't born wi stag blood - maybe you coulda been a bull on ye own." He smirked to himself afterwards.

"Wouldn't have meant a thing though." Gendry murmured to himself and fumbled with his hands for a moment.

"Nah. It wouldn't have." Bronn agreed, leaning back once again.

In that moment, a floral sight adorned the hall as the Knight of the Flowers passed by, his eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of the two rather scruffy looking men smirking on the bench. He appraised them for a few moments, Gendry thinking it was some sort of highborn snobbery and glanced down at his hands. When the knight passed, he turned back to Bronn. "Why are you a Ser? You're nothing like these men around 'ere."

Bronn's eyes followed the Tyrell knight as he left the area, a scrutinising gaze on his eyes. "Got knighted after the Battle - 'fore that I was just a sell sword to his right royal Tyrion of 'Ouse Lannister." He turned back to the boy, noticing how Gendry's eyes were suddenly searching the door area once again.

"So he's in there then?" He nodded towards the door, his eyes fixed on the dark wood with a gaze that told the sellsword-turned-ser that the boy was worried about whatever was happening. That he hadn't known what was going on and he found it difficult.

"Ye with your Lady Wolf and enough knights and small council to go into battle." Bronn stated.

Gendry's eyes widened. "Gods. Shouldn't I go in there to 'elp her?" He turned back to look the man in the eyes, standing up as he spoke and reaching towards the door before Bronn managed to speak up.

"Probably wouldn't do 'er any good, lad." He grabbed the boy by the arm and stopped his movements. At that he slumped into his bench and back beside the man, understanding exactly what Bronn had said.

"What am I meant to do then?" Gendry spoke, sounding abruptly defeated and deflated at the issues.

"Sit 'ere and wait." Bronn recommended, passing the boy a flask of bitter wine and opening it for him. The boy flinched as he good a drink, but continued anyway - hoping it would cool his nerves. "There's noting else we can really do."

Long moments seemed to pass when the door suddenly burst open and the young girl fled from the room, the shortest Lannister following her out with much more poise and calmness about him.

"Later then lad." Bronn called out as Gendry obediently followed her, not noticing his own lord standing beside him until the small in height lord coughed and the taller man turned to face him. "What's that about?"

"My Nephew." Tyrion stated and Bronn rolled his eyes. Both kept their eyes fixed on the girl and boy as they left the area however. "My Nephew is an idiot who doesn't realise what is being said."

* * *

Arya stormed ahead of Gendry, the Lords and Ladies in the hallways that they trailed through.

"What happened, Arya?" He practically yelled at her, not realising how loud he had spoken until he saw some of the lords and ladies around turn to face them. He shied away slightly and bowed his head.

"It doesn't matter, Gendry." She snarled out at him, continuing on her course away from where their rooms were and towards where the 'Godswood' was. Not caring that she no longer saw them as her gods but only hoping that they could help her in some way.

His eyes caught sight of the patch of red and blue on her face, his eyes widening as he saw it - he pulled her to a stop in the darkened hallway to one end, away from the scrutinising and over aged ideas of propriety. "'M sure it does Arya." He softly placed his hand on her arm to stop her her from wandering off once more.

"They just don't understand, Gendry." She snapped at the air, growling out as if someone was there and not looking towards Gendry as she spoke. "They keep asking questions that I just don't know about and then they won't stop." She stuttered out, finally turning back to look him in the face and smiling at the frowns he pulled "And that stupid liar…" Arya trailed off slightly.

"Arya." Gendry's voice softened, his hand holding her arm released it and moved slowly up to trace over the bruise forming on her face. He frowned slight at it, running his thumb over the yellowing pattern on the height of her cheek. She pursed her lips as Gendry leaned slightly towards her, frowning at the blotted

"Do you want to see the dragon skulls?" She leant back suddenly, glancing around - hoping that no one had seen them. "I think I remember where they are." She seemed to smile at the idea

"What are you are on about, Arry?" Gendry looked at her, stepping back slightly and squaring his shoulders as he glanced around.

"There's dragon skulls here - come on I'll show you." She turned and walked towards the end of the hall, Gendry turning after her with equal confusion as they walked towards the base of the hallway - towards the open arch way at the end.

"Fine then." He muttered.

Arya lead him down through winding corridors and darkened halls - through narrow staircases and thick-walled caverns. Down through dimly light dungeons, illuminated by old lanterns and flamed torches that caused the orange light to wither and change. Passing tightly wrought metal, sharp sides and pressed weeping stone. Oil dripping from failing lanterns and muted voices with muttered words and murmured thoughts flowed through halls.

Gendry leaned down towards her height in his steps, noticing it more as they slowed down - watching her glances become confused and worried. He started to laugh. "We're lost." He stated and continued to laugh as she glared at him. "Aren't we?" he motioned around himself and she nodded glumly, her grey eyes cast down. They both stopped walking and glanced around where they were stood - nothing seeming familiar to the girl nor the boy. "Something must seem familiar, Arry?" Gendry insisted to her, pushing out his arms from his sides towards the walls surrounding them.

Arya circled the hall, looking for something familiar when she stopped abruptly around three-quarters around her circle. She narrowed her eyes at the wall before her, striding towards it and placing her hand on the metal of the object.

"This shouldn't be here…" she ran her index finger over the flat edge of the object, running it up the edge until she reached a join the held the metal to another metal form of leather and metal. "This should be with Robb…"

"What is it Arya?" Gendry approached her carefully, placing his hand on her shoulder to break her from the daze she was in. His eyes searching the back of her head with worry rather than what she was looking at.

"My father's sword." She growled, pulling the blade towards her - collapsing as she misinterpreted the weight and tripped, struggling slightly as Gendry kneeled down to help her up and take the blade from her.

He lifted it up so that he was holding on end in one palm and the handle in another. He held it for a few moments, rocking it in his hands. "It needs some work," The blade glinted in his hands, the light reflecting off of the surface. "But I've never held a blade like it." He folded his hands and tucked it into his belt.

"What are you doing?" Arya growled out her question as she heard voices down the hall from where they stood. She narrowed her eyes at her friend, prepared to rip the blade from his belt.

"It shouldn't be down 'ere." He explained, looking her directly in the eyes as he spoke. "It should be with you." Gendry smiled to her, seeing the joy slowly pulling into his eyes. She smiled at his reaction.

"Lady Arya, Gendry." The two turned to the sudden addition of a voice, looking at the location of where it had come from to find Varys stood before them. "What are the two of you doing down here?"

"We were trying to find the dragon skulls…" Gendry sighed, glancing around and noticing that the Master of Whispers was with someone he recognised, but yet he could not place why. "But we got lost."

The bald man laughed slightly at the expressions of the two before him. "Lord Tywin will be looking for the two of you." He glanced down at the blade being protected by the boy's hand resting against the blade's hilt. "The stairs out are down there." Varys watched as the two bowed and said their goodbyes before hurrying away. He frowned.

They were still too young - looking for adventure when they probably should have had enough.

But for the realm, for the realm they were good.

"Those are the children I need to watch?" The man stood beside him asked, watching as the two strode away - both of them looking at the boy's hip and the blade that rested there with awe. "They're young."

"They're important." The dark-haired man nodded at what the bald man said before turning and watching the duo leaving the dungeons. "Do you not recognise them?"

The man said nothing, staring at where they were stood. Staying stood where he was, beside the bald man. "He does, I think." The dark-haired man spoke as if he was not himself, as if his voice was coming from elsewhere in the room. "I can't, right now."

"Good." The bald man smiled. "You will remember them with time."

The dark-haired man searched the bald man's face with his eye, pursing his lips as he did so. Everything confused him, everything.

* * *

The wolf remembered smelling her mistresses scent on the wind, going south from the north - and she was confused. She remembered smelling a stag and her mistress surrounded by soldiers and men she had killed before.

And the wolf hadn't liked it. She liked the smell of the Brotherhood who sometimes had left scraps out because they knew the food would go. She liked the smell of the Stark camp because her brother was there. She liked the smell of her mistresses friend, he would pat her head and not attack her with spears.

She didn't like the Lannister smell.

She hadn't liked back when they invaded her home of Winterfell. She hadn't liked it when they were on the road and she had to leave. She never liked it.

She never trusted it. She never trusted that the boy she bit that smelled more like the two blondes than the fat dark-haired man that had found her funny. She never trusted the blonde woman in how she glared at her family, and she never liked how the blonde knight had spoken to her mistress' brother, her brother's master.

She didn't trust the Lannisters. She didn't trust that they constantly smelt of each other - like how the her mistress' father and mother smelt of each other. She did not like it.

She did not like that their father had taken her mistress to the place that she had fled. She did not like that, so she came back, so she left her mate in charge of her pack. To protect the girl that didn't know how dangerous it truly was.

"Gendry. Hide it in my bed." Arya burst into the room where the wolf was sleeping, the boy that smelt of the fat man running in after her - in his hands a blade, long and broad.

A knock pattered against the doorway in the other room. The boy turned abruptly "Who is it?" He muttered to mistress, frowning at the fact someone was once again disrupting their day.

"Does it matter. If they find it here..." She protested, pushing it under the blankets and sliding it away from the edge with care. Making sure that the perfect edges and cut of the Valyerian steel did not slice open the feather blankets or reveal the position of the blade in its shape.

"I get it." He insisted to his friend, smiling reassuringly at her as she strode from side to side before the bed. The knock once again echoing through the rooms. "Nymeria, down girl." He yelled at her. The wolf stared back at him blankly, as if she didn't understand.

"Stark girl." Meryn snarled through the door, pounding on the door once more as the duo walked through into the main room. "Open this door." Gendry looked worriedly towards Arya before walking towards the doorway and pulling it open - allowing those behind it to enter.

"Your grace." Arya smiled and curtsied mockingly and clumsily - Gendry bowing his head as the three Kingsguard and the boy king entered the room.

"Where is my grandfather, girl?" Joffery growled out his question, not expecting the curtsy or politeness from either of the two. Mostly after what had happened that morning.

"I do not know." Arya said, glancing towards Gendry with wide eyes. Worry glinted through her eyes and he quickly caught sight of the bruise flowering on her cheek. He inhaled slightly at the sight, turning to face the king with a blunt gaze.

"I assume he's in a small council meeting." The blacksmith said with bitter words, the tone seeming to be unheard by the young King - Gendry walked towards Arya, putting himself between his friend and his apparent brother.

"I did not ask you 'brother' - I asked the wolf bitch." Joffery's lip raised into an ugly-looking snarl, his hate seeming plain against the subtlety of the elaborate distaste of the summer air that danced in the thoughts of those outside the room.

"You will not call her that again." Gendry's words steamed as they charged towards the young king - his eyes narrowed as he pushed himself closer to his Lady Stark and away from his 'brother'. Arya would have scoffed at him, or told him otherwise - but she hadn't that day, the bruise stung too much.

"What are you going to do to stop me? I am the King." He yelled out, his hand shaking to accent his point with a grace unbefitting of a king - Gendry noted.

"Not my King." Arya muttered, barely above her breath and a small smile glinted over her lips. She thought of her brother, north of wear they were stood - fighting - and then the smile disappeared, as she remembered when they had freedoms. Freedoms bogged down by starvation and horror - but freedoms none the less.

"What did you say, wolf bitch?" Joffrey's question threatened the air and Arya placed her hand defensively on her hip, the palm resting slightly over the hit of needle once more.

"Nothing." Arya's voice was hardly above a whisper. "Nothing of importance." She repeated the second half of her sentence a slight louder, only to find that the King had infact overheard what she had said.

"I'm debating getting your mouth sewn shut if you continue to speak out of turn, wolf bitch." Joffery stepped forward towards her, motioning carelessly towards her face as he spoke. She felt her feet unintentionally stumble back, her hand sliding towards the sword at her hip so that her palm was resting on the cool metal hilt of the blade.

"You will not touch her." Gendry growled out the words, keeping the barrier he had created between his brother and his friend

"And you cannot stop me." Joffery smirked towards the taller, stronger and older boy. He knew the older boy, his so-called 'brother' would not do anything to stop him - because he physically couldn't without 'The Bull' becoming classed as a traitor and killed for it.

"No. I'm just a bastard." Gendry stated, walking back a few steps closer to Arya as he drawled out his words slowly.

"Ser Meryn!" Joffery's eyes flamed and Gendry was not completely sure why, he just kept his eyes level and eye contact maintained.

Neither Gendry nor Arya was quite sure how Nymeria had managed to enter the room without any of them noticing the giant wolf's form. Nor were either of the quite sure how she had managed to make her way between them both and attack the knight of the kingsguard as he reached for Gendry's shoulder.

"Nymeria!" Arya screamed out, running the few step distance between the animal and where she was to close in the distance and pull at the wolf's fur. Nymeria then relented her jaw's grip on the knight's arm and nuzzled the young woman's face, the blood still staining the fur on the chin of the wolf.

"Ser Meryn. Rid us of this beast." Joffery yelled to his guard and Ser Meyrn raised his broadsword so that his shadow was covering where Arya was crouched with the direwolf.

"You will do no such thing." A cool, overly calm voice took over the room and suddenly Ser Meryn stopped his motions and lowered his sword. "Arya, Gendry - take the wolf into your rooms." He ordered and Arya stood abruptly, wanting to flee as quickly as she could.

Gendry, however, did not move. He stood still, seething through his teeth. "Gendry - come on..." Arya spoke up and Gendry suddenly broke out of the trance he had forced himself into and flexed out of the room.

"Mi'lord..." Gendry seemed to be prepared to say something to Lord Tywin. Prepared to say something that would not be said by him, the words lingering in his

"Boy. Do as I say." Tywin did not turn to face the boy, but his voice echoed so much that Gendry felt that he did not need to. "I will speak with my Grandson over the wolf issue." At this he turned at left the room, following Arya out of the door they had not come in.

As he left the room into the hallway, he heard a low growl. "Nymeria." He saw the wolf approach out of the long shadows caused by the torch-light. "C'mere girl - let's go find your mama's sword." He patted at his leg and the wolf rubbed against his leg.

"Mama? She's a direwolf - not a small child." Arya said over the shadows, waiting by the wall as Gendry walked towards her. His hands grabbed at where Ice had being on his hip, wishing that he had some sort of weapon on him in that moment - thinking about how Joffery was acting that day.

"And sometimes she acts like a small child around you - don't deny it." He smiled at her as she tried to protest the what he was saying.

"Okay." She groaned slightly and they both stood in the corridor, glancing around the limestone hall with thickening silent.

"Arya?" Gendry turned to her, Nymeria walking towards the other end of the hall, padding over the stone with no sound echoing through the hall.

"Gendry." She mimicked him.

"I've thought about it and you're right - we can't stay here." He said in a hushed tone, glancing around the hall at that they were walking through. His eyes seemed scattered and never seemed to concentrate on a point for more than a few seconds - as if he was just checking that there was nothing out-of-place in a room he'd never seen before.

She turned on the balls of her feet, her eyes wide with shock. "What?" She seemed to smile, her eyes glinting with wonder at the idea and Gendry agreed. The idea was 'wonderful' - mostly the wonder part of that word rather than the fact that it could actually be fulfilled. But it sounded good all the same.

"Arry. You are right." Gendry said, looking the girl in the eyes and nodding towards her. "Okay?" He asked her as she didn't reply to what he had said and she raised an eyebrow towards him and taking his arm and leading him up the corridor. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere else." She glanced worriedly back at the end of the hall, where the wooden door stood between the two of them and the Lannister men - who would listen and tell Lord Tywin and then they may loose the few freedoms that they were allowed. And they may loose their only windows of opportunity. "How are we going to leave then?"

"There's a boat. Somewhere out there. That heads off to the free cities." He motioned towards the edge of the bay, passed where the water was still stained green and where ships fashioned in different ways docked. "I remember seeing Bravvosi men that used to come to the smithy." He thought back to a time when everything was  _normal_ , when he could wake up and have a day where he didn't have to think about the words he said or when he would eat next.

"And we go to Braavos?" She asked, imagining what that would be like - to go to the place that she'd heard so many merchants in the bay speak of. To be  **free**.

Gendry smiled to himself and watched as the young woman beside him leant over the windowsill to get a better view of the ships. "And we go to Braavos. Maybe then back to the Riverlands and to your brother."

"And then we do what?" She asked, standing back up so she was facing him fully and stepping away from the window so that she was in the corridor.

"Fight? I don't know Arry." He shrugged and lead her away from the window, towards where he could hear no voices coming from their solar so he opened the door and sighed with joy at the sight of the empty room before him. "We'll figure it out."

"I like that idea." She smiled to her self and glanced around the room wearily. "I like that idea a lot."

* * *

The next day seemed to arrive sooner than both of them had expected, after their parting of ways that evening, and they soon found themselves sat in the solar. The two of them surrounded by foods and Arya had managed to squirm her way into breeches and a tunic that day without the aid of her handmaiden Jeyne. They fit her properly and he assumed that they had been made for her since they had arrived. But the conversation from the night before still rolled around in her mind, so she decided to get up and lead Gendry towards a place she could remember. A place she would be sure that would be still empty.

"Arya where are we going?" He asked her, sounding hesitant as he followed behind her loyally - through the twisting corridors and stairways that seemed to go on forever.

"Somewhere quite enough for us to talk." Arya said, not turning back as she tried to retrace the steps she had taken years before - years when she was younger and more innocent, when her dreams were of knighthood and riding rather than freedom and her family to be together once again… and ghosts. Ghosts of her father and how Bran used to be, even ghosts of King Robert's laughter or Jory and her father's men.

She found her destination easily enough and sighed at the sight. Ghosts filling the air of her instructor and her lessons. The blood still stained ground and the air still seemed as thick as it had the day of her last lesson.

"We need to discuss what we talked about." Gendry had followed close behind her and she spoke as soon as they entered the room, knowing that the room gave her some comfort in her existence in it - that it was safe there.

He looked at her carefully before nodding in agreement with her words. "Yes."

She thought of all the ways she could managed to incline into the subject, carefully and subtly. But none came to mind. "How will we get on the boat in the first place?" She asked Gendry bluntly, wandering around the room until she found two plants with thick, long stems growing into the room.

Gendry followed her movements and grabbed one of the two stems and pulled - slamming his foot down on one side of the stick so that it was at sword length. He then did the same for Arya. He passed her the stick and then looked her in the eye. "Your friend could help us?" He stood quickly and raised his stick-sword, standing to the side like she had insisted to him so many times.

"I'm not sure he'd help us escape." She said as she hit her stick-sword against his with speed causing him to step back before he swung back at hers. He grinned slightly and she joined in.

But then her words seemed to sink in and he paused, letting the sword drop to the "Right. 'Cause he just kills for you?" He was close to giving up then, irritation lacing through his voice.

"Fight me." She hit the stick against his chest and when he didn't follow what she had said until he did as she instructed. "Yes he does just kill for me"

"Right that's helpful." Gendry rolled his eyes, sure it was helpful - but for the most part it was not the most helpful thing the man could do for them. She pushed on his chest lightly when he let his guard down and stepped back in the direction of her push. "Where are we going now?" He asked, annoyance strained in his voice.

"Towards the wall." She said, hitting her 'sword' once more against his with a little more effort, sighing

"Arya." Gendry dropped his stick to the ground, this time letting it fall flat to the ground, paying no attention to it as it rolled away. "This is not helping, we need to figure out a plan."

"Do you now?" The clank of metal against metal was a sound that the two shuddered at, the voice that accompanied it was one that Arya dreaded more than the boy had. The voice of one of the men from the long table with Lord Tywin. One of his knights, the annoying one who scoffed at her and who had answered Joffery's question without a flinch. "A plan for what exactly?"

"Nothing at all ser." Gendry knew his voice seemed hesitant, but he could not control it as many of the Lords and Ladies of the court seemed to be able to.

"I'm not sure I heard that lie right, boy." The knight scoffed and entered the room further with long, clunky strides. "Would you like to repeat yourself to Lord Tywin?" At the man's words the young girl darted from under the arms of the man and the boy she called her friend, the man's hand reaching out to grab her tunic and missing marginally whilst he firmly grabbed the shoulder of the boy.

"Arya!" Gendry screamed out towards her, trying to shake off the man's heavy grasped hand as he attempted to reach out to Arya. Her tunic clad shoulders leaving the room at a speed that the boy could not comprehend in his panic addled mind.

Lorch, however, was not having any of this and spun the boy abruptly so that he was facing him - leaning threateningly over the boy as he growled out his question. "Where is she going boy?"

"I do not know." Gendry answered, focusing alone on the ground at his feet. He then looked the knight in the eye, thinking about what he would have liked to have said next.

"Come along boy." The knight kept his hand clamped painfully to the boy's shoulder and pushed the boy along the corridor before him, Gendry reluctantly following along suit with worry and panic covering his face. "We need to speak with Lord Tywin." The words echoed in the air around him as he knew that this would not end well.

* * *

"Jaqen." Arya yelled at the man dressed in a red and gold uniform of the Lannister guards. He was stood alone, turning to face the girl as he heard her shout. Red and white hair was reflected over the basin of water he stood before and her face was only a shadow on the slight ripples there.

"A girl becomes a lady." The Lothari criminal glanced over her appearance, her skin clear of dirt and her hair cleaned and brushed out - she was not the stick thin girl he had first met on the road, but still she was a girl.

"A girl was never a lady." She snarled out, hissing her words with hurry and determination that made it difficult for him to not see the hate and worry that poured from her - emotions that he had always been able to spot and see.

"A girl is now a lady." The faceless man corrected with an ease that out the girl at unease. "A girl has something for a man?"

Arya nodded. "A name: Ser Amrory Loch."

"It is done." Jaqen said and turned back to what he was doing, dipping his hand once more into the water to continue with the cleaning of his weaponry and the jobs he had to complete before the day was through.

"Now. He's going to tell Tywin." She yelled out and pushed at the man's legs, her voice seeming to break with desperation.

"A man is going." He said and nodded at the young girl, glancing over her worried features. "A man will speak with a girl again." He turned away and stepped in longing strides away from the Stark girl.

* * *

North from where King's Landing trapped two Starks, two more stood in a muddied canvas tent. Surrounding a wooden table were a handful of Lords and Ladies: Bolton, Umber, Mormont, Karstark, Manderly, Mallister, Flint, Frey and Blackwood.

Outside the canvas rattled and seemed to rock in the winds, the rain darkened shadows over the dull grey sky and the patterns seemed to create shadows of white shapes on clouds of black and dark grey. The rain falling from those clouds hit against each leaf before splatting against the stretched material of the tent's canvas. Flying from the roof of the tent was the Stark sigil and inside the iron and bronze crown sat upon dark red hair.

"What have we heard of my sisters?" The King asked, glancing up from his war map to look suddenly between the Lords and Ladies in the tent, their conversations about typical war related issues stopping.

"Nothing, your grace." Smalljon Umber's voice bellowed from the tall man, his voice sounding as large as the man himself. "Only that Lady Arya and the boy have being taken to the capital."

"My daughters need to come home." Catelyn stated, a fact that was getting more and more prevalent every time the Lady Stark mentioned it - which had become more frequent since the news of Arya's escape and recapture had reached the encampment.

"And how do you propose we do that, Mother?" King Robb leant over the table, his hands flat of the paper of the map and the coolness of the wood underneath. He wished that their markers were not so central and closer to the bay of Dorne - so he could easily fulfil what his mother was asking and go home.

It took a few moments for Catelyn to think of her answer, Lords and Ladies turned to face her with questioning or disapproving glances - but few of the disapproving glances "We make an agreement with the Lannisters."

"No." Robb spoke in a voice that was harsh and final, seeming to not be able to be budged on the thought and purpose behind them. He glanced heavily back down at the map, his eyes going straight to where the encampment was found on the map.

"They want this war less than we do." Catelyn spoke as if she had thought over this issue of a time, as if she was understanding it. "They're fighting the battle on more than two fronts."

"And who do you propose we send to speak with them who they will not kill, mother?" He asked, annoyance lacing his voice. This would cause a problem in his Lords if this happened, but then it almost needed to happen. "No, mother."

"Robb I've not seen my girls in years. They've both flowered and grown without their mother and without their father." Her voice hitched, the older lords and ladies looked towards her in understanding - for they had experienced these "They need me Robb."

"Mother." Robb's voice spoke with an authority that fitted who he had become with ease and understanding of his kingly station. His auburn mess that his hair had become in the young king's attempts to run his hands through his hair in irritation and frustration.

"Your grace," Dacey Mormont, heir to Bear Island and the only woman in Robb's thirty, spoke up from Robb's left, her fingers brushing over the edge of the map as if she was thinking carefully of the words she was about to say - but her eyes looked at her King confidently. "I will accompany your mother if it means that we can bring an end to this war."

"Lady Mormont." Robb spoke to the woman with respect for the strong fighter - and for what she was offering for him and his mother. "We have nothing to give them."

"We do, your grace." The lady glanced out of the tent's opening, towards where a wooden and metal pen had been created for the blonde haired man sat inside of it - watching the tent as the brown haired woman's eyes cast over and he caught her eye, smirking.

"No." Karstark roared, his voice filling and hollowing out the tent. "He killed my son." "He will not get away with this!"

"You have heard the rumours of what happened to Princess Sansa, have you not Karstark?" Before the Starks managed to respond, Dacey Mormont spoke up, her eyes glaring at the older man. "Rumours of what is to happen to Princess Arya?" These rumours had spread like wildfire through the camp, quick and with so much ease that they were shocking to say the least - running from that she would be forced to marry the bastard to much more shocking and horrifying ideas stemming from the idea that Tywin Lannister would 'punish' her for her escape. "They are of the north, they cannot stay there any longer."

"What will it take for you to agree with this, Karstark?" Karstark scoffed at his King's question, finding little reason in answering it, or being able to answer it. He was finding it hard - for it was so overtly against his morals and the morals of many men in the room. This was going against what they were fighting for.

"Sansa could marry your youngest son Eddard?" Catelyn's question was left in the air and caused whispers and mutters to fill the empty space, it would not advance the Starks house in anyway - if anything it would undermine them more, with their King married to the Westerlings and the youngest Stark girl apparently defiled on the road north with the Night's Watch. But Catelyn saw the strength in it, and as did many of the younger lords - most of Robb's thirty - the lords that thought they should be loyal to the crown and the north, the lords that saw the best in what the union would bring.

At Lady Stark's words, the Karstark patriarch spluttered and his eyes widened. "You would give my son your daughter's hand to allow the Kingslayer freedom." He repeated the idea, it still sounding as preposterous to him as it did when he heard it from Catelyn - but the idea seemed to appeal "You do me a great honour Lady Stark."

"Mother?" Robb's voice seemed unsure of what his mother was proposing to the Lord, but Karstark's reaction told Robb something important - that this would buy the man's loyalty.

"She will not marry any southern lord." Catelyn spoke, almost as if she was talking to her son alone - as if no one else was in the tent. "Tywin Lannister has already taken my youngest daughter's choices from me, if these rumours are in anyway true." She pointed at the letters that piled at the edge of the table - holding down one corner of the map. "Theon Greyjoy has taken my youngest sons from me." Robb looked down at the map and glared at the spot that marked Winterfell, his gaze cast downwards at the map for a few long moments as he seemed to become more and more irritated by the prospect.

But then something clicked in his mind, something that he suddenly could understand as the eyes were all watching his face and reactions. "We offer them the Kingslayer and peace and we take the North" He said the words as if he was testing the idea but he found himself agreeing with the idea. "Those are our terms, mother." Some of the Lords, the more war worn smiled with agreement whilst a few - notably the Boltons - glared on at the two Stark.

"Then it is decided." She muttered, smiling to herself more than to her son at the thoughts of happiness that passed through her, she was going to get her daughters back. And she was going to see them again.

"Take Lady Mormont and some of her men with you, mother." Robb spoke with authority, a tone that made it sound like an order for Dacey Mormont and yet a promise to his mother. An order that Dacey would happily follow - for as a member of Robb's thirty she protected him more than just on the battlefield. So Mormont nodded in agreement and offered Lady Stark her Morningstar and left to prepare for the travels south with Brienne.

"To the King of the North." Around her the men coughed up into a raucous chants of words. "To peace." She stood and smiled, speaking the last one quietly to herself. Yes, Catelyn Stark would be heading south for peace. Stark, because she was a Stark. Stark, because she was King-Mother to the King of the North, the Young Wolf.

"Don't loose this war suddenly whilst I'm gone." She said, her son not hearing her words over the sound of yells and joy from the men. Something lingering in the words that she had said almost to herself, something that told her that something was not right - that there was more joy than she had expected in them announcing this idea.

But then, she thought, maybe it was for the best. They were all tired. They had all lost much. And they would have lost more by the war's end. Maybe with the new idea, it would all work for the better - Lady Stark hoped to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N okay I like putting in Bronn and Gendry scenes, because they give me joy. And I hate Meryn… and I can't think of any overly dick-like Kingsguard other than Ser dickwad Meryn.
> 
> Also I'm using the term 'git' because I like the term 'git'. And as a British person who calls people gits I would like to use the term - although it's probably not historically correct use of 1940s slang or actually used ever in Westeros, other than right now, with Bronn - in my version. And the thing with Gendry's speech has happened to me before when I'm on holiday - my Yorkshire accent can sometimes become so strong that it's difficult to understand, but if I spend three of four days in any country my accent 'neutralises' and it becomes easier to understand for non-yorkshire people. Except for when I was on holiday a few years ago and I met a girl from Yorkshire and my accent became the thickest it's ever been in less than two seconds. I guess there's some sort of phycological explanation for it - but that's what's happening with Gendry.
> 
> And Dacey - because I like her from the books and she's a fab Mormont badass woman and shall be giving her and a few other secondary/tertiary characters in Robb's Army a chance. I'm sorry about the fact they aren't in the show, but I need named characters to fill roles I need characters to use for the plot.


End file.
